


Mando v Aliens

by Militia



Series: Star Wars Fics [11]
Category: Alien Series, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alien AU, Angst, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:36:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 49
Words: 43,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23106331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Militia/pseuds/Militia
Summary: The Mandalorian (TV series and work Family and Home) meets Aliens the movie. Lot's of people gonna die today boys.[COMPLETE]
Relationships: M/F/F - Relationship, M/M - Relationship
Series: Star Wars Fics [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1867885
Comments: 64
Kudos: 66





	1. Introductions

The Mandalorian. That was what they called him during their introduction. Din found himself a bit amused, glad for the helmet that hid his small grin. He focused back in on the briefing.

It should be simple. Go to the colony, with marine backup, check for survivors, come home. The lady, Omera, talked about an alien organism though. A new one. A hostile. As far as Din could tell, no one seemed to believe her. Personally, he was reserving judgement. The abilities she claimed it had seemed too fantastical to be true. Yet, he had seen some strange things in his line of work. Until he saw evidence, either for or against what she claimed, he would act with an open mind.

They were set to leave the next morning, so saying their goodbyes, they left to prepare for their journey. True or not, alien or not, something on the colony was a threat and was cutting off communications. Din was taking all his guns.

Th next morning came around quickly, as did the boarding and entering cryo sleep. No time for further introductions. No time for pleasantries. Just the way he liked it. He’d have to deal with that nonsense soon enough.

All too soon, they were waking up. He was just glad they hadn’t tried to fight him on the helmet, usually he got told to take it off for cryo. Odd for the company, but maybe this team had worked with another Mandalorian previously.  
He continued to muse quietly to himself as he finished gearing up in all his armoured glory. Just in the nick of time.

“AH, TROUBLEMAKER!”  
Oh Maker.  
Head dropping forward with a sigh, Din wondered what he’d done to deserve this.  
With a deep breath, he turned around in preparation for the massive figure looming ominously behind him. Drawing all kinds of attention to the duo.   
“Paz.”  
He kept his voice neutral, even as he resigned himself to the conversation with the half dressed man before him.

He _was_ just thinking they’d worked with a Mandalorian before. Behind Paz’s massive frame, he’s pretty sure he caught a glimpse of Raga too. Great.

“So, they sent you along on this mission too? Worried we wouldn’t be able to handle it?”  
As he spoke in his booming voice, he leaned further into Din’s space in a clearly antagonistic manner. Made sense. Their last encounter had left much to be desired.

“I’m just here as security for the consultant,” he responded, making sure to keep a level tone. Anything else Paz might see as an opening for a full confrontation.

He humphed, and the two stood silently, waiting for the other to make the next move. To back down or further the tension.  
Thankfully, the posturing was interrupted.  
Shoving into Paz, a little too roughly to be entirely good natured, a woman appeared. No helmet. 

“Cara Dune, you are?”  
With a pointed hand out, she rose an eyebrow in expectation.

“Mando,” he responded in a low tone, clasping her hand firmly, but giving nothing more.

Smirking, she thrust her head to the side.  
“Raga wants a word with you big guy.”  
With a sharp clap onto his arm, Cara gripped onto a grumbling Paz and pulled him away, giving Din his space back.  
“See you later, Mando.”  
With a final word in, mocking tone edging it, the duo left toward the other end of the room where, behind gaps in the lockers, Din could see Raga leaning against a wall.

Off to a great start already.

“Excuse me?”  
Even better, now someone else wanted to talk to him apparently. With another bone deep sigh, he tilted his head to look at the new stranger in front of him.

“Uh, hi? I’m uh, I’m Corin.”  
Awkwardly holding out a hand, the stranger continued talking.  
“Just uh, you’re just, in front of my locker. There? Behind you?” Slowly drawing his hand back in, he jerked his hand quickly, pointing at the locker blocked by Dins right shoulder.

“Right.”  
Stepping out of his way, he let the soldier past as he moved around him, and made to leave the locker room behind.  
“Mandalorian, wait!”

For Maker’s sake.

Rather than wait and have another conversation in the crowded area, he kept walking. Whoever wanted to talk to him, could do it later. Hopefully the consultant wouldn't be too put out by it.


	2. Dinner

The dining hall was full of noise. Tables full and crowded with Corin's fellow soldiers. He only knew a few though, being the new unit transfer and all.

He made his way to the table Cara was waving him over to. On either side she had a mandalorian. The tank in blue, and the lithe in grey and red. He still had to force himself to stand his ground when it came to those too. He sat down to the tail end of a conversation about the new Mando.

"-blade against his throat, while he held his into my side-"

Raga interrupted Paz's booming tale, "That fight only happened because you were an idiot and tried to take off his helmet."

What.

"He had imperial marked _beskar_ -"

"That was gifted to the Foundlings." Raga ended the argument with a stern tone that even Paz chose to back down from. Though he still muttered to himself under his breath.

"After being used for his armour."

With a glare Corin could feel, even through the blank visor, Raga became infinitely more terrifying in a matter of seconds. Good thing he was used to these spats.

He felt the exact moment the other mandalorian walked into the room. Around him, he could see everyone tense, looking in one direction. Did they forget the meaning of subtle? It didn't take long before he saw Paz stiffen across from him, visor trained behind his shoulder and moving slightly. Tracking someone. Seconds later, the other mandalorian, in pure beskar armour walked past the table, ignoring the big guy completely, even as he hissed out a quiet, _"traitor."_ Cara shoved an elbow into his side and continued eating.

Corin remembered his earlier interaction with the mandalorian. Stammering out a mess of words as he felt the piercing gaze of the eyes behind that blank visor. For someone smaller than Paz, almost the same size as Raga, he almost seemed more dangerous.

Of course, he was pulled out of his musings by the commotion beside him as Leave-it joined the group at the table.

"Hey guys!"

He could feel the physical presence of the urge everyone had to groan. Wherever Leave-it went, trouble followed. Where he got the nick-name after all. He just couldn't keep his nose out of places it didn't belong.

"So, another Mandalorian, huh? What's that-"

Thankfully, cutting himself off before he could touch on what seemed to be a sore subject, Leave-it called out as a droid walked past.

"IG! Hey IG!"

"Yes?" The droid asked, approaching the table with an incredible amount of disdain for a droid with no expression.

"Do the knife trick! Come on man, you gotta do it!"

"I don't think that would be the best-"

"Oh come on man, you gotta!"

Without actually emitting a sound, the droid somehow sighed in defeat before closing the distance to the table, and grabbing the knife Leave-it held out to it.

Hiding a grin, Corin watched as Kiergan crept up behind Leave-it. Before leaping forward and wrapping him in a headlock as Zev'sonya grabbed his hand, and pulled it toward the droids.

"Hey wait a minute! Hey, wait a minute! Man stop!"

Ignoring him, the droid places his hand down on top of Leave-it's, and began to stab the knife between the gaps of their fingers. Gaining speed as Leave-it began to scream out in a hoarse voice of panic. Gaining and gaining, faster and faster, until the knife, and the hand holding it was almost a blur.

Everyone was laughing as the droid finally stopped, flipping the knife and presenting ito to Zev'sonya as Leave-it gripped his now free hand.

No longer needed, the droid walked away, toward the table where Corin could see the other mandalorian was seated, along with the consultant, pilot and seargant.

"This should be good," he heard Paz mutter beneath his breath, twisting back in his seat to face the table. Corin hadn't even realised he was facing the other way.

And what did he mean by that cryptic statement?


	3. Droid

Din tensed as a droid approached the table, past the laughing table. Behind it, he could see Paz turn and look where it was heading. Odd enough, the stranger, Corin, was staring as well. He tilted his head down so no one would be bale to tell where he was looking, staring at the holo disk in front of him filled with a summary of information for the debrief.

The droid stopped in front of the table.  
He clenched his fingers tighter around the edge of the holo-disk, determined to ignore it as Kuill and Karga spoke to it.

It sat down.

He forced his fingers to release, flexing them as he breathed. Do not react. Do not. React.

“-ey Mando?”  
He glanced up - do not look at that droid, do not- realising he had only caught the tail end of a sentence.  
He waited for Karga to ask it again. He knew how Din worked, and would be able to guess he was distracted.  
With an awkward huff, Karga started his question again.  
“These alien organisms won’t be a problem at all, hey Mando?”

With a non committal hum, he looked back down at the disk in front of him, and continued reading the information.

“Might I suggest-“  
“No.”  
He cut the droid off as soon as it started to speak. If they wanted to hear what it had to say, they could ask it to repeat itself when he wasn’t there to hear it.  
His fingers flexed again against the disk.

“It would appear that you have a problem with-“  
“Yes.”  
Again, he cut the droid off before it could finish, wanting to listen to it as little as possible. Do no react. Ignore it.

“Come with me,” Kuill spoke this time, and out of his peripheral Din could see him gesturing to the droid.  
“I have some further updates that could be of good use.”

Wandering off, the duo left the table in an awkward silence as Din continued to ignore everything around him to the best of his abilities.

“So, Omera,” of course Karga was the one to break through it.  
“These alien organisms of yours-“

“I’ll talk about them in depth at the briefing,” she cut through, voice tense as iron. Without moving his head, Din glanced up at her, saw the small furrow between her brows, the tight twist of her lips.  
In his gut, he felt no one could make that face without a cause.


	4. Debrief

Corin listened carefully as the lady described the organism she had encountered. Acid blood, eggs hatching inside of people. It sounded insane.   
Corin knew better than to believe it was completely impossible. Listening to her description, these things sounded like truly Bad luck personified.

Around him, he could hear Leave-it muttering to Kiergan and Hauroko, about how there was no way these things could physically exist. That she had to be making them up or had to have hallucinated them.  
He couldn’t quite bring himself to believe that he was right.

When the debrief ended, Corin could still feel his unease like lead in his gut.  
It felt like Bad Luck was circling them. Like this mission was cursed. Of course the others just laughed when he mentioned it, waving off his concern.  
“We’re probably going to get there, and everything’ll be fine,” Leave-it said.

Corin wished he shared the same certainty, but watching the consultant become more and more jittery, the closer they got to landing, wasn’t helping his nerves at all.  
It didn’t help he kept finding himself distracted, curious about the silver clad mandalorian that followed her around. He didn’t know why he was so fixated on him. They’d barley interacted, and he’d shown no interest in getting to know any of the soldiers.

Maybe it was his knowledge of Paz and Raga that made him curious rather than miffed.

Shaking his head, he focused back on his task, helping Kiergan pack away the ammunition in boxes to be stored on the vehicles they were taking into the compound. Frankly, the amount of explosives seemed extreme.   
So did the turret guns. The flamethrowers and the massive machine gun were par for the course as far as Paz and Cara were concerned. Of course Paz and Raga both had their own personal Flame throwers built into their vambraces.

Corin wished he had armour like that.

Right. Focus. Make sure to pack, everything. Don’t leave anything behind.

Not even the giant, palm sized bullets for Paz’s gun.

He really was a tank.

Once everything was packed, the team was sent into the lander. Corin found himself at the front of the car, away from Cara, where he usually sits. Instead he found himself face to face with the other mandalorian. Sat beside him was the consultant, and another man Corin didn’t recognise, wearing Company uniform. They buckled in and prepared to descend in the smaller carriers; the landers driving up into them as they were cleared for descent.

Making sure to take deep breaths through the ratchety turbulence, Corin stared up at the ceiling and tried to clear his head. Tried to keep himself calm.   
A particularly rough bout had him grimacing, jaw clenching painfully before he could risk opening his eyes again. Only to see the mandalorian across from him with his head bowed and fists clenched tightly.   
Maybe he also hated rough descents?

The helmet swung up again, and blue eyes met a black visor across the small distance. Corin couldn’t look away if he wanted to. He wondered what was under there. Wondered what colour the mandalorians eyes were.

“Approaching the compound now.”  
Kuill’s rough voice echoed through the intercom.   
Taking some more deep breaths, grounding himself, Corin leaned his head back and waited for the descent to end.

“Haven’t done any combat descents yet?”  
He startled at the sound of the voice across form him, surprisingly soft even through the voice modulator.  
“What?”

He dipped this head a bit, seeming to gesture to the vehicle around them.  
“Have you done any coat descents yet?”  
His voice was stronger this time.

Breathless, he replied, “Yeah, yeah done several. Just-“ Another rough bout of turbulence cut him off, jaw slamming shut.  
“Just never got used to the turbulence,” he finished.

With a small nod, the mandalorian fell silent again, leaving Corin to wonder about his voice. For some reason, it really hadn’t sounded anything like he thought it would. Granted, he had heard it earlier, but their interaction had been too quick for him to really process it. He liked it.

“Lowering the ramp.”  
With a jolt, he came back out of his head. He hadn’t even realised they’d landed, too caught up in his thoughts about the strange warrior in front of him. He needed to snap out of it. That kind of distraction could get him killed. It was bad luck.

With another deep breath, he felt the vehicle beneath him roar to life and rumble as it drove off and away from the carrier and into the compound ahead.


	5. Sweep

Empty. Through the cameras, that was the thing that stood out about the compound.  
It was a mess. Trash everywhere, Doors torn off their hinges, dirt and grime covering everything. Colonists definitely hadn’t just dropped off communications due to an accident then. Din played with his blaster, tense.

Across from him, he could see the stranger- Corin, finishing up his preparation and ammo stock. He seemed slightly out of place. Drifting along solo instead of part of one of the small groups Din had noticed formed within the crew.

“Alright, everyone ready?”  
The lieutenant, Kiegan?, called out. Answered by a chorus of agreement, he finished fixing the camera onto his helmet.

Karga called back to the group from where he was sat at the screens.  
“Paz, camera’s frizzing.”

Down the row, Din heard a clunk.

The lander pulled to a stop. The tension thrumming throughout the vehicle like a physical presence as everyone completed their preparations, checking their weapons one final time before they would head out. Din was tempted to go with them, but knew his job was to stay with Omera as a last line of security. Besides, he never really worked well in teams.

The lander opened, door hissing as it opened.  
“Go, go, go!”  
He wasn’t sure who made the call. Most likely the lieutenant, seeing as Karga, their seargant, was remaining behind to watch the cameras and be the soldiers point of contact back to the transport.

Finally having room to stand up, he and Omera made their way to sit, or in his case stand, by Karga. Watching the screens, Din was distantly aware of the Company man approach through his peripheral, before taking a seat close to Omera.  
In quiet, they watched the team make their progress through the building.

“Clear”  
“Clear”  
As they went, room by room, hallway by hallway, there were no signs of life. For a colony that was supposed to have over forty-thousand, the quiet was more than unnerving.

“Wait, tell-“ Omera cut herself off, picking up a spare headset sitting by the screens to talk to the men directly.  
“Leave-it? Leave-it, turn back, your 5 o’clock.”

One of the screens showed a turn. Leave-it. Din wondered how he got _that_ name. Surely it wasn't his actual one.

“There,” Omera breathed out.  
Din leaned forward. Right in front of them, something had melted through the Grade-A steel of the compound, leaving large, gaping holes behind.

“Acid for blood,” he heard the company man murmur off to his side.  
Seemed these organisms might not be too fantastical to be real after all.

“Captain? All Clear.”  
With a slight nod, Karga pushed himself up.  
“Alright, Mando, Omera, area’s safe to have a look. Gideon-“  
So that was company man’s name, Gideon. Sounded familiar.

He followed Omera out of the lander, door hissing closed behind them, cutting off the conversation the two were having. In front of him, the soldiers were returning, flanking around the two as they exited the vehicle, though visibly more on edge than when they had left.  
Din guessed that knowing an enemy was here, but not knowing where, was enough to get anyone’s nerves up. More than a gunfight right away would have.   
They made their way through a couple rooms in the compound, past the gaping holes in the floor. Disturbingly enough, they entered a lab filled with strange, dead creatures floating in oversized test tubes.

Then one hit the glass beside Omera’s face and she jumped. Her hadn’t reached to her waistband, as if going for a weapon that wasn’t there.  
“Facehugger,” she whispered. She sounded horrified.

He recalled what she had told them about the organisms life cycle. This was the creature that implanted the egg.

Someone’s tracker pinged. There was movement ahead.


	6. The Kid

The tension could have been shattered with a tap. Everyone formed up, Paz and Cara taking lead with the two biggest guns, Omera and the other mandalorian in the centre for protection. Corin was beside the two, keeping a sharp eye out between the front and his peripheral.  
Last thing he needed was something to take him by surprise from the side.

They walked forward, the pinging getting more insistent, faster and faster.  
They slammed the door in front of them open, to where the signal was coming from. Right as Paz went to open fire, Omera leapt forward from where she had been peeking around him.  
“Wait!”  
She knocked into him, causing him to miss the green blur as it ran past, ducking down beneath the vents in this room’s floor, and crawling through.

“What the kriff-“  
“It’s not the organism!”

Corin ignored them, chasing the green as he saw it through the grates, before it flew to the side and disappeared through a small vent leading into the wall.  
Not the organism, small. Could be a child.  
Before he even finished the thought, he was diving into the vent after it, chasing it through the confined areas.  
He had to curl his shoulder inwards, almost getting stuck in the small gap, before he pushed himself forward.  
“Corin-”  
“Corin!”  
He ignored the calls behind him as he continued after the shape in front of him. Seeing light ahead, he kept going, pushing an arm out when he saw the shape try close a small door on him.  
It took almost no effort at all the force it open, spilling out onto the ground in front of him.

He got up slowly, taking note of the huddled bundle, now crouched in the corner away from him.  
All around him, Corin was almost ankle deep in trash. Food wrappers, water containers and blankets piled around the space.  
The smell was disgusting.  
Across from him, the face of a small, green alien seemed to be glaring at him. It definitely looked like a child?  
Some good luck then, that he hadn’t chased something dangerous and gotten himself killed.

Peering around the room, he also surprised the id must have an inordinate amount of good luck. Just from the sheer amount of junk in the space, it looked like the kid had been surviving in here for a long time.

Looking back into the corner, he slowly approached.  
“Hey, hey, I’m not going to hurt you,” he kept his voice soft, gentle. Kept his movements slow.  
Then the kid darted away to another opening.

Instead of letting it go, he leapt forward, grabbing onto it and wrapping it in his arms in a tight hug to stop them rom getting away.  
“I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

He held tight to the struggling body, prepared to sit here for as long as it took to calm them down so he could take them back to the group. Take them back to safety.  
“I’ve got you kid. I’ve got you.”


	7. Return

Din was impressed by Corin’s speed. He’d barley had time to notice him moving before he was disappearing into a vent after the little figure.

Raga called after him, along with another soldier Din didn’t remember the name to, both calling his name and for him to wait or come back. Silence was their answer, the sounds of the vents walls bouncing and warping around Corin’s weight completely fading from hearing almost before everyone in the room had finally stopped panicking.

There were discussions between a small trio, including the unknown one that had called out, on going after him. Omera was still glaring at Paz. Karga was trying to reign control, with little success. It was absolute chaos. Loud chaos.

  
Din took a deep breath, completely done.

“Enough!”

The deep yell erupted form his chest, cutting through the mayhem faster than a beskar vibro-blade through water. Clearly no one had been expecting him to speak up. Made sense, even Raga and Paz, he hadn’t spent any real time with them in years. No one here would know the signs of imminent eruption.

With a deep sigh, he spoke in a much calmer voice, keenly aware of everyone’s eyes on him, and forced himself to maintain an aura of calm.

“He’s a trained soldier, and can look after himself. We don’t even know if that thing was a threat-“

He threw a warning glare at Omera as she went to interrupt. She must have caught on, even through the visor, because she stopped herself.

“Whether or not it was, going in a after him into unknown territory is as stupid plan that could get someone killed,” he took a short breath.

“Especially considering we don’t know where in the vents he would have followed it to.”

Quiet reigned after his words. Din was thankful for the small reprieve from the volume. The helmet could only do so much against that many people shouting at once.

In tense silence, the group settled. It seemed they’d be waiting then.

Din lost count of how many minutes they sat there - maybe thirty? - before sounds came from the vent once more.

Everyone was on high alert immediately, more than one hand readied on a weapon or prepared to draw as they stared at the small opening.

Corin’s head poked through first, a bit of grime rubbed over his skin, making his eyes weirdly pop. Bright blue against the dust and dirt and-  
Not an important observation.

Shaking his head to dislodge his train of thinking, he watched as a couple of the soldiers - he should really figure out their names- went over to help him out. He didn’t seem injured, but was holding himself weirdly. Then he was pulled free of the vent.

He was clutching something in his arms. Almost hugging it with a tight grip.  
Din caught sight of green, before he registered movement. The green turned, and he saw at least half of it was a pair of giant ears, framing a small face set with two huge eyes blinking blearily around the room.

It looked like a toddler.  
Guess it was a good thing he went after it then.

The sight of him holding the kid, the fact that he had dropped everything, including his need for safety, to go after it, definitely did not make him feel a bit of warmth for the soldier. He did not appreciate the sight of the fit man slightly rocking the kid in his arms as it clutched at his sleeve.

Oh Maker.


	8. First Interaction

Corin cooed down at the little face. The kid hadn’t spoken since the wailing it had made when he’d grabbed it. He wasn’t sure if it could speak. Some species were telepathic right?  
He shook his head a bit. It was a bit too easy to get lost in his own thoughts, doing nothing but sitting with the kid in his arms with the small group back on the lander. They hadn’t wanted to take the kid in search of the other colonists, had tried to pass it off to Omera and the other mandalorian to take back to the lander.  
It had almost ripped through Corin’s kevlar sleeves, screaming and crying the minute it realised they were trying to take it away from him. He was sure he would have small bruises form the impressive grip the kid had exerted.

Rather than stress the kid out further, Corin had volunteered to stay back, be the main point of contact in the transport.

Rather than waste any more time, Karga had agreed, sending him back with the other three, and taking Corin’s place in the crew, donning his camera.

Through the screens and headset, Corin could see the team making their way into the sub-level basement. The cooling level.  
Following IG-11’s directions, from where the droid was stationed, kriff knows where, they had entered an area that seemed to have weird, organic growths covering the walls around them.

Corin did his best to ignore the heat he could feel through his armour from where the mandalorian was sitting at his elbow.  
A bit too aware of his companion, he shifted slightly, moving the kid around in his arms under the guise of making them more comfortable. He had an odd feeling in his chest. Maybe he was coming down with something? That’d be a bit of bad luck with the way things were going at the moment.

Up on the screen, he watched his fellow soldiers move forward, further into the maze of growth. Maybe it was a fungus native to the planet? He couldn’t even pretend to know, so he put it out of his mind, focusing instead on doing his job, trying to spot anything out of place on any of the screens.

“We have a survivor!”  
Leave-it’s voice called out, and the rest of the crew gathered around him.  
The survivor was stuck inside the growth. Over her, it appeared more like slime.  
She was gasping for breath, tears running down her face as she mouthed words at Leave-it. Through the camera, it almost felt like she was staring right at Corin.

Leave-it leaned in to hear her.  
“-kill me,” she muttered, over and over again. Desperate. But why?

Then she screamed.  
She cried out, thrashing, head jerking in every direction as her body convulsed.

Crack! Crack.  
Blood spurted out of her chest as something heaved.

Snap!  
Suddenly, a head ripped it’s way out of her ribs, spraying blood every which way as it tore out of her shirt.  
Corin jumped in shock. Could do nothing but watch in horror, distantly hearing his team cry out in fear or surprise. It sounded like they were underwater. So very far away as he found himself stuck, staring at the domed head with tiny, sharp teeth twisting it’s way further out of the woman’s chest. Shrieking and screaming, it was tearing itself free.

It screamed as it went up in flames.

Corin was frozen, staring at the now burning remains of the corpse. At the thing, charred and black, dangling from her open chest.

Evil. It was truly evil if this was how these creatures were born. Why did he remember this?  
He hadn’t realised he was holding his breath until a hand came up, hesitantly resting on his shoulder and causing him to jerk with shock. Why was that scene so familiar?

His eyes met their reflection in a blackened T-visor.  
Distantly, he was aware he was being asked a question.

What kind of monsters were those things?

“Hey!”  
A deep but loud call startled him out of his stupor. Shaking his head, he took deep breaths to ground himself. He was a soldier for kriff’s sake. He shouldn’t be going into shock at seeing a death. No matter how shocking, and violent.  
He saw the woman’s chest tearing open behind his eyes.

“Are you okay?”  
Corin realised he was staring, mouth opening and closing as he tried to work his way through his issues. No time for a break down. He was the team’s point of contact. He needed to pull himself together.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m uh- I’m fine,” he stammered out, pushing away the arm on his shoulder - when had he grabbed it? - and turning to sit back in his chair, his other arm still wrapped like a vice around the now woken kid. He had barely noticed that he’d shot back, onto his feet, when the creature broke through her chest.

With a spare shaking hand, he pulled the headset back onto his head. No time for panic. Push it aside. Take a deep breath, and deal with it later. Then he saw something.

“Captain, you’ve got movement!”  
He watched as Karga turned, too late. He was too slow. Too busy going into shock to do his job, and now he watched as his captain suffered for it, snatched up by a massive black creature.  
His vitals went flat on screen.

He’d gotten his captain killed, and now the rest of his team was in danger.


	9. Panic

Panic erupted. Even without a headset, Din could hear the yelling and screams as they echoed through the one still on Corin’s head.  
On the screens, chaos was erupting all over the place.

Guns were being fired. Flames being thrown.  
Omera grabbed the other headset again.

“Stop shooting! You’re in the cooling system.”  
Another pillar of fire erupts on a screen.

“Stop! Raising the temperature could kill everyone!”

Barely noticeable, he heard the screams echoing through both pairs of headsets.  
“We need to get out of here-“  
“We’re blocked off! They’ve cut off the path back to the-“  
“-need to move-“  
“-hind you!”

Warping together, the voices made a discordant harmony. Made harder to understand through the tinny quality of the contained noise of the gear Omera and Corin were wearing.

He looked at Corin, to see what he wanted to do.  
He was frozen, a panicked look on his face. For whatever reason, the chest burster had rattled him. He seemed to be fighting signs of shock. For someone who was a seasoned soldier, there _had_ to be a story behind this reaction. It was too extreme otherwise.

A story he could try find out later.

He reached forward, grabbing Corin’s arm and shaking it.  
“What do you want to do?”  
His voice was harsh, harder than he’d meant, but they didn’t have time to pander to trauma. Not with lives on the line.

“Or-orders were to stay with the lander,” Corin stammered out, beads of sweat beginning to form on his pale face. Definitely fighting shock.

“What do you want us to do?”

He stared into this blue eyes, seemingly able to maintain eye contact with him even through the visor. He saw the moment they hardened, Corin shaking his head and taking a deep breath before meeting his gaze once more.  
With a barely there nod, he pulled himself together. Turning to Omera, he checked if she could drive the lander. Still holding onto the kid, now awake and gripping tightly into his sleeve, his movement would be too limited to be of any real use driving the thing.

Once he knew she could, turned his attention to his headset.

“Kiergan, Kieran do you copy?”

Nothing over the sound of panic.

“Kiergan!”  
An answer. Din leaned back, satisfied to let Corin take charge.

“We’re coming after you. Get to the level above you, you’re near the maintenance stairs. Once there we can meet you and get you guys out.”  
A nod and Omera was moving toward the front of the lander and into the drivers seat.

“Wait- we can’t do this? Surely soldiers can find their own way back without putting civilians at risk?”

The first real words Din had heard the company man- Gideon speak. Of course they were to was to save his own hide from even the chance of danger.

Staring straight into Gideon’s eyes, Corin speaks into the head piece.  
“We’re coming to get you, so get moving!”  
With the final word in, he joins Omera at the front of the vehicle as she pushes forward on the thruster, sending the lander flying forward.

A beacon popped up on the map in front of her.  
“Get us there, the walls for this level are weak, carbonate rather than steel.”  
Corin stared forward into the screen in front of them, pausing for a beat.  
“Break through them if you have to.”

Grinning behind his helmet, Din joins him in gripping onto one of the rails around the space, and readies himself for a possible impact as they approach their destination.


	10. Bad luck

Corin sees the pick up point ahead on their map, a blank wall on their screen. With a feral grin, he braces for impact as Omera floors it, tucking the kid safely into his chest.

They crash through, debris spraying all around them.  
Recovering quickly from the crash, he pushes past a still over balanced Din, barely glancing at the strapped in company man as he makes his way to the door, picking up his gun along the way and leaving the kid on the seat beside Omera. They must have been able to pick up that now was the time to go with the flow.

The doors hiss open, heat pouring in. Omera said something about heat. Hadn’t she?  
Readying his gun, he decided it was all the more reason to get his crew out of there quickly. He could feel bad luck breathing down his neck, an almost pressing weight adding to his stress.

Right on cue, Leave-it and Hauroko run through the still settling dust toward the lander, coughing and panting, with grime and sweat dirtying their faces. With barely a nod, the two board, behind them more figures coming through the hazy air.  
The walls seemed to move.  
“Kier-“  
With barley enough time to start shouting, calling out for his lieutenant- captain now that Karga was gone, a creature burst froward from where it had been crawling on the wall and slammed into Kiergan, sending them both tumbling as it let out an inhuman screech.

He took aim, preparing to fire.

Paz and Raga came out of the haze, Paz turning when he saw Kiergan’s predicament, looking like he was going to help.  
Then multiple events collided.

Corin pulled the trigger, aiming for the creatures back.  
It’s head exploded outward, apparently shot by Kiergan, struggling beneath it.   
Both sets of bullets sent spray flying straight onto Paz.  
Then the screaming started.

One high pitched, coming from the corner the dead alien was in. Kiergan!  
Then Paz howled, hands flying up to his armour, gun falling to the floor as he stumbled backwards and collided into Raga.

Cara came from behind them, gripping Paz and pulling him forward and toward the lander as Raga watched their backs.

Acid for blood.  
Corin arched in horror, the reminder coming too late as he saw the blood eating it’s way through Paz’s helmet and vambraces. Eating it’s way through his beskar.

He felt numb.  
He’d done this.   
No blaming luck this time.  
He’d taken the shot, and sent that acid onto his comrade.  
He’d hurt Paz.

The pair stumbled past him itnto the lander. Raga grabbed him roughly, shoving him backwards and off balance.  
“Move!”

His mouth opened and closed, but ti was a struggle to get the words out as she continued shoving him back into the vehicle.  
“I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t- I’m sorry.”  
He stammered apologies, over and over, as Raga finally got him inside and closed the door behind them. Maybe he was the curse that wrought this bad luck on his team?

She pushed past, a muttered “Don’t blame yourself,” leaving her as she crouched down where Cara was kneeling beside Paz’s still struggling form.

He watched, still, as she reached for his helmet.

“Ni ceta, cyar’ika,” her voice broke, betraying her emotions as she leaned forward, tapping their helmeted foreheads together, holding it for barely a beat before pulling away.

She pulled off his helmet. Passing it off to Cara who sat it carefully on the floor, a way from Paz, the two got to work removing his vambraces and Pauldrons, both with sections melting through or already gone.

They worked quickly, making quick work of Bacta srpray to stabilise the wounds on his face and arms after cutting through the kevlar flight suit Paz wore under his armour.

Paz reached up, eyes rolling, half-delirious. One hand stroked Cara’s chin before resting on Raga’s arm.  
“Cyare’se.”

Corin jerked as the lander moved forward, leaving behind the nest and horrors they’d come from. If only he could leave behind his guilt.


	11. Crash

The lander was mostly silent as Omera full throttled her way through the streets of the compound to leave.  
All except the soft whispers and murmurs of the trio on the floor.   
Din found himself staring at the half melted helmet sitting on the floor beside them. Out of respect, he avoided looking any closer at them, a futile gesture as Cara and Raga have both now seen Paz’s face, and it’s been exposed to his crew, even if they had all tried to look away as soon as they knew what was happening.

It was too late.

He forced his way past that train of thought, and mad this way back up to Omera and the kid, who had remained in the seat beside her safely, not moving to follow after Corin when he’s gone to open the door.

They broke the compounds boundary line and hit the open plains outside it. Din hoped Kuill was on his way.  
He had sent him a message as soon as they had breached the wall to rescue the crew. They should be able to see his carrier soon.

Omera wasn’t slowing down.  
The lander jumped, dipping heavily against the ground as it started to grind steel, the bumpy ground likely pulling all kinds of hell on the wheels of the thing.

“Hey hey hey,” Din reached forward, gripping over her hands on the control.”  
“Ease up, ease up.”

He slowly got her to loosen her grip, pulling the lander up to a stop, cringing as he heard the brakes screech against bare metal.

“We’re out.”  
He kept his voice low, attempting to be comforting. He paused for a moment, checking up on whether she might need company. Finding her appear okay, he turns to leave.

A chirp stops him, and a glance down at the kid sees them attempting to climb down onto the ground.  
Din sighed. Then leaned down, picking them up and holding them to his chest. If they were going to come out, may as well be at a height they won’t possibly get trampled.

He leaves Omera to herself, making his way back out to the solemn atmosphere. Corin is still by the door, appearing to almost try distance himself from everyone else in the space. He looks upset. Maybe even guilty?  
Din isn’t sure what that’s about.

The kid perks up, ears lifting when it catches sight of him, and begins to wiggle in his grasp, almost falling on the floor. They almost succeed before Din catches them, right in front of Gideon.  
With a glare at him, Din stalks forward. He wasn’t sure why, but something about the man rubbed him the wrong way. Something about him had his hackles up. Where had he heard that name before?

“Hey,” he approached the man before him, hesitantly holding the kid out for him to take.

With a small, weak smile, he did so, before folding back over and clutching the kid to his chest.

Din opened the door and stepped outside, hoping to catch sight of Kuill.  
Foot steps behind him let him now he wasn’t alone. He moved out of the way, watching as slowly, everyone made their way out of the small space and into the open air. Corin joined last. He could have sworn he saw Raga stop and say something to him before he finally joined everyone?

He needed to stop focussing on the soldier so much. That wasn’t the job.

Din turned. There. Off in the distance, rapidly approaching, he could see the carrier making it’s way toward them.  
Sighs of reliefs nd even some smiles broke out around the group.

Din wasn’t surprised to see Paz exit the lander as well, shaky on his feet, but otherwise looking alright for someone who’s face had been attacked by acid. He felt a bit of a tension in his chest at the sight of his bare face and armour less arms. Despite their differences, and the mixed bag that was their past, Din wasn’t sure what he would do if Paz was deemed aruetii.  
Despite their conflicts, they were brothers in arms, and had, for the most part, been raised together.  
He turned away from the sight, and his own thoughts, banishing them to a corner to mull over when he had the time.

“Hey, what’s happening?”

The ship spiralled.  
With a bit of horror, pushing aside the dark corner that whispered defeat, Din watched as the carrier swerved and swayed in the air. Then it fell, completely out of control.

“Move, everyone get down! Now!”  
He called out, harsh and un-yielding in his words, sensing everyone scattering for cover as the carrier careened toward the ground, hurtling right toward them.

Seeing Corin, once again frozen, but this time also with a child in his arms, Din growled. He ran for him, colliding heavily and dragging him away toward cover.

They made it in the nick of time, crouching down below the rock as he heard the screeching and boom of the impact.

Waiting a couple seconds, he peeked around to see the crashed ship.  
“Inside, we should go.”  
A young voice spoke up, small and childish.  
He looked down at the heavy gaze of the kid.

“Dark, they come.”

Sharing a look with Corin- still wondering how he seemed able to see through the visor and straight into Din’s eyes- he breathed deeply. He needed to be in control of himself right now.

As a group, they slowly started making their way back toward the compound. It was the only shelter for miles, and the best they would be able to do.  
The light wasn’t that bright, and if the kid was right, Din didn’t want to stick around and wait for this things to come and tear them apart in the open.


	12. Guilt

The group quickly set up base, choosing one o the security or look-out buildings on the very outskirts of the compound. The furthest away they could safely get from the nest they had encountered. Corin kept to himself. No need to force the others into dealing with his issues.  
Besides, he was fine. The others were way worse off.  
Paz had been forced to remove his helmet. To give up his creed. Raga had been the one to take the helmet off, and Cara had her hands full comforting them.  
Hauroko and Leave-it were mourning Kiergan’s death.  
Omera and the mandalorian likely had their own stuff to deal with.  
Kriff knows Corin wasn’t going to try talk to the company man. Something about him unsettled him, majorly. His interest in the acid blood after he saw the damage to Paz’s armour definitely hadn’t helped.

So Corin was left alone, to take care of the kid in his arms. The only shred of good luck on this dumpster fire of a mission.

The other being the droid, IG-11, that had somehow showed up shortly before they reached the compound, offering its assistance.  
Kriff knows they’d probably need it.

The temporary lack of enemies and monsters gave the crew time to rest and recuperate. At least, as best they could.  
Using batch they had salvaged from the wrecked lander, they were at least able to keep using it on Paz, lessening his pain and speeding up the healing.  
Corin still couldn’t stand to so much as glance in his direction. Too cowardly to face the deep pit of guilt he felt building up in his gut.

Push it aside. Focus. Break down later.

He paced, bouncing the kid in his arms, more to try distract himself than keep the kid calm.  
Focus. Move on. Push through it like a good little soldier.

“Hey.”  
A low voice startled him. Not good enough. He needed to be aware of his surroundings. Deal with his issues later. He needed to focus.

The mandalorian stood in front of him, hand lowering back to his side, as if he’d gone to reach out and shake Corin’s shoulder again.   
He still remembered the warmth he felt, even through his jacket.

“Hi,” he didn’t know what to say. Almost wishing the kid would kick up a fuss, give hime something else to do but look into that unforgiving, black visor.  
The urge to apologise crept up his throat. Did he know Corin was the one who shot the alien? Did he know that he was the reason Raga had needed to removes Paz’s helmet?

He wondered what the mandalorian would do if he found out. Maybe he deserved it.  
“I, was just checking you were okay.”  
His voice remained low, even. Maybe even comforting.

With a stabbing twist in his gut, Corin ducked his head. He didn’t deserve comfort. All he brought was bad luck.

With a start, he realised they were waiting for an answer.  
“Yeah, I’m- I’m fine,” he forced a smile to his face, knowing it was probably cracked and clearly false.

He felt the kid shift in his arms, little claws digging into his shirt as it gazed up at him with large soulful eyes. It would have been better if it had bonded with someone else. With Corin, it was probably just going to get hurt.  
He couldn’t bring himself to put the kid down though.

The mandalorian hadn’t left. With an awkward jolt, Corin began to stammer out nonsense, trying to do- something? Even he wasn’t sure what he was trying to say.

Thankfully he was cut off when Raga came over.  
“We’re going over plans and blueprints of the building, Omera has a few ideas to help at least buy us time.”

Corin stared down at his feet.  
She’d told him not to blame himself. Then, before the carrier had crashed, she’d told him what happened to Paz was a freak accident. That he was forgiven, even if no one else blamed him.  
Corin wish the could believe her.

He needed to focus. Push through. Look after the kid. Watch his team mates backs. Not let anyone else die on his watch.

He couldn’t help but feel that luck wasn’t on their side.


	13. Planning

Din didn’t trust the droid.  
It had randomly shown up, conveniently, and now had some more over sized test tubes with even more of the weird ‘face-huggers’, as Omera called them, to study them through their corpses.

He glared at it through his visor as everyone gathered around the table in the middle of the room where the blue prints and floor plans were all laid out.

He forced himself to look away and focus on the conversation at hand.

“Look, we can seal the doors, here, here; and here.” Omera pointed at different places on the map.  
“Right, and that would leave them these two tunnels, here,” Raga pointed to one spot, then another, “and here.”  
“Right. That way, we buy some time to get our comms up and running to call down the other carrier.”

“Unfortunately.” Din tensed when the droid spoke up, approaching the group, “I have some data that may be a problem.”  
Omera glanced up with a frown.

“The only comms that would have had the necessary range to call to the ship, were the Seargents, and his next in command. Otherwise only the radios on the lander, or on the other carrier would have had the necessary technology.”

Raga pulled away from the table with a hissed curse, stalking off toward where Cara was still situated by Paz.

Rocking back on her heels, Omera addressed the droid.  
“Is there anyway we can modify our comms to send a signal.”  
“Negative.”

She huffed out a breath.  
“What about using the compounds radio system or comm system and modifying that to send the signal.”  
“I have already scanned for their network, and I’m afraid it appears the damage to the compound has also damaged the radio and commlinks running through the buildings.”

Din barely bit back a groan. If the compound was that badly damaged; if they couldn’t send out a signal-

“We won’t last against those things.”  
Everyone looked toward Corin as he spoke up, lifting the kid up and onto the table, where it started to cautiously wander.  
“The time between our last call in, and when they’ll be alerted to a possible problem, is seventeen days.”  
Din heard someone else off to the side curse, a couple people reacting to the information.  
Keeping an eye on their reactions and movement through the side of his eye, this time it was Omera that drew his attention.

“The kid managed to survive the eight weeks it’s been since we lost contact with the compound, surely-“  
“The kid is _one,_ _small_ being who could fit through vents and into small areas where those _things_ were too big to follow,” Corin snapped back at her.

The air grew tense as the two now glared at each other.  
“We’re a group of eight adults - one who is still _severely_ injured- a large droid and the kid as well. Unless you want us to split up and go our seperate ways, into hiding - which also won’t guarantee our safety- We. Won't. Last, that long.”

The kid burbled, apparently content just cruising around the edge of the table, attempting to balance on the very rim, ignoring the sharp words flying above them.  
Din caught it when it slipped, grabbing it by the back of it’s cloak and righting it.  
With a cheeky grin and perked up ears, it reached out toward him rather than continue on its path around.  
He wasn’t sure what the kid wanted.

It crouched a little, short stubby legs bending, arms going back, before it flew forward, leaping straight for him.  
With a start he caught the kid, who was now cackling and squirming in his grip.  
Before he could find a better way of holding them, the kid got free, and scaled up his arm to perch onto his right cauldron, gripping his helmet for balance.

Around him, the attention slowly went back to their problem, distracted momentarily from the tension by the child’s antics.

“Alright,” Omera sighed, arms folding in front of her, “What do you propose we do?”

Corin hesitated now, as if he couldn’t believe someone wanted him to come up with the idea.  
Slowly, he started talking again.  
“We should still weld the entrances, and set up those turrets. Still buys us some time.”  
Omera nodded in agreement.

“Then,” he cleared his throat, “then we should try get to the compounds main transmission room. The equipment there might not all be malfunctioning, and we could try use it or modify it to send a message.”  
Everyone was silent, considering the idea.  
“It could work,” the droid said.  
“The damage might not have breached the rooms security, and there is a probability for working equipment to still be there.”

The kid chirped on Din’s shoulder, as around the room, everyone appeared to be in agreement.  
Corin nodded to himself, looking around the room, and for a split second, his piercing blue eyes stared directly into Dins’.   
He ignored the thrum, deep in his chest.

“Let’s get to work.”


	14. Conversation

Armed with a plan, everyone got to work.  
Paz, still limited due to his injuries, especially as one of his eyes had definitely been hit, was one of the only ones not given a job to do, instead told to stay back and rest. The others were Corin, still caring for the child, the droid, still dissecting the face-huggers, and Gideon, who apparently had no real use.

Everyone else quickly filed out, carrying their instructions and orders with them.

Across the room from him, Corin was playing with the child.  
Paz was keenly aware that, since his helmet had come off, Corin hadn’t glanced in his direction once.

Ignoring the droid, that had quietly gone back to its work, and Gideon, who was leaning over its shoulder to watch the aliens dissection, Paz attempted to pull himself up off the makeshift cot - aka shortest table they could find- and into a sitting position.

Grunting with the exertion as he propped himself up on still sore arms, still healing from the acid burns fully covered beneath the batch strips that covered them. With small hisses of pain escaping, eyes clenched shut as he grit his teeth, he wasn’t prepared for a touch to his shoulder, or to meet Corin’s eyes as he looked up.  
Having what he wanted, he lets himself flop back down.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”  
On cue, Corin ducked his head, cuddling the kid closer to his head as he stepped back.  
Reaching out, Paz yanked him back towards him by his sleeve, ignoring his stammered excuses and shutting him up.

“Why.”  
It wasn’t quite a question, Paz already getting an idea from the guilt he saw every time Corin looked at his face or at his bandage covered burns.

“Because I did this to you,” he whispered, clutching the kid tight against his chest, voice barely a whisper.  
Paz scowled up at him.  
“What?”

Corin took a deep breath, head ducked close to press his face against the top of the kids, whose large ears were brushing up against him.  
With another steadying breath, he lifted his head back up.  
“I took the shot, on the organism. I saw you near it, and I still took the shot,” he paused, hesitating when his voice tremors.  
“I got you hurt. I got your armour damaged. It’s because of me-“ his voice cracks a bit and he pauses again, clearing his throat.  
“it’s because of me you’ve had to give up your creed.”

Paz could barely hear his last words, but he still did.

He reached forward and slapped the side of Corin’s head, grunting with the pain of moving his arm and shoulder.

Startled, Corin whipped his head up to stare at him.  
“What was that for?”  
The shrill octave was very entertaining.

Glaring at him, unimpressed, Paz told him.  
“You weren’t the only one to take the shot. Kiergan did too. I saw the light. I know he fired.”

He glared at Corin when he tried to talk up and interrupt him. He was on a roll and would not be side tracked.

“Even if he hadn’t, I got too close, I saw you aiming. Does that mean it was actually my fault?”  
“of course no-“  
“Then how is it yours! It was a freak accident. We all made our choices, and yes,” here Paz took a slightly shaky breath, before steeling his nerves,  
“Yes, I had to remove my helmet, and give up my creed.”

He stared deep into Corin’s eyes, making sure he was listening.

“This was not you fault, you hear me?”  
He brandished a finger when Corin opened his mouth, guilt still painting his features.

“I do not blame you. And if you ever thought I should, I forgive you, hear me?”  
He reached out, gripping onto Corin’s elbow, and softening his voice.

“This is not your fault, alright? It’s not. Your. Fault.”

He held onto Corin, until he finally nodded, sending him a small smile.

Sighing in relief, he drops his head back against the bench. A least he finally got the over dramatic moron to see some sense.  
Just in time, as he could hear the sounds of the others getting closer, apparently finished their welding.

Taking a deep breath, he swung himself up with a small grunt, sitting up just in time to see Din enter the room first.  
He smirked at Corin when he ducked his head back down to the kid with a slight flush tinting his face. Someone had a crush.

Seeing Din almost walk into a desk after seeing him play with the kid, his smirk widened. Looks like Corin wasn’t the only one. Paz wondered if either of the oblivious morons had actually taken the time to realise their feelings.  
Probably not, with everything that had happened that day.

He’d have to see if it was the Bacta and the pain, or if he was actually reading them properly. He’d have a small talk with Raga and Cara about them.

It’d probably end with a bet knowing the way their trio worked.

Seeing Din immediately make his way over toward Corin, barely even hesitating at the sight of Paz before approaching and murmuring quietly to Corin. Yeah, Paz already knew which way he’d be betting.  
Nothing like a good life or death scenario to throw people together.

They already had a kid too judging by the little one’s excited reaction to the two standing over him, demanding to be passed back and forth between them.

He smiled softly, unnoticed by the duo, and enjoyed the small, gentle little moment.

Who knew how bad things could get soon. He’d take what he could get. Even better was when he saw Raga and Cara the next ones through the door, followed closely by Leave-it. They immediately set their sights on him, and made their way over.

His smile widened into a grin at them. Yeah, he’d take everything he could get until everything went to a damn Sith’s Pit.


	15. Forgiveness

Din hesitated leaving the room, still concerned about Corin. He’d been acting strange earlier. He was worried about his mindset. His reactions from the chest burster, all the way up until the crash, had all shown a bigger, concerning picture.  
“Din, come on!”  
He startled, unprepared for Raga to shout his name out across the room.

Right. Job, then he could worry about Corin’s wellbeing.  
Just to make sure he wouldn’t get killed. The last thing they needed was another death.

  
He and Raga were in charge of setting up the turrets in the two corridors.  
They wired in the motion sensors, making sure to set them back a few good metres to give them space to aim and shoot. Then the set up the turrets, securing them a short distance from the heavy set doors behind them.  
As they worked, he could see Raga glancing at him very now and then through his peripheral.  
Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore.  
“What?” He snapped at her, glaring through his helmet.

She lifted a shoulder, turning back to her work.  
“Didn’t expect to see you on this mission.”  
There was something in her tone. Something saying more than the words coming out of her mouth. He narrowed his eyes at her, turning to look more directly at her.

“What does that mean?”  
She sighed, head rolling forward before she kept securing the mounted gun in front of her.

“Why’d you leave?”

He stopped short, the question stalling his defensiveness in its tracks. Rather than answer, he turned back to continue to work at the turret in front of him. Beside him, Raga huffed out a laugh.  
“So that’s it then, not going to say anything?”

“What do you want me to say Raga?”  
“How about explain why you left-“ her voice raised, this time her turning toward him, shoulders raised aggressively.  
“How about doing more to let your covert know you’re not dead, than sending credits and supplies to the Armorer-“

His shoulders raised, hackles beginning to rise.

“Or how about not ignoring us like we’re strangers, for kriff’s sake Din, we were raised together!”

“Yeah, we were!”   
He snapped back, losing the tenuous grasp he’d had on his own control since seeing the two when he first woke up and was cornered in the locker room.  
“We were raised together, we grew up together, we trained together.”

He took a deep, shaky breath, curling his hands to fists to hide the mild tremors.  
“Then when I needed you, you weren’t there.”

Done, having said his piece, he turned away, savagely slamming against the support holding up the turret, before taking a deep breath, and getting back to work. Steadfastly ignoring the distinct lack of noise coming from beside him, he just continued tinkering and fixing the mount together.  
With a frustrated snarl at a bolt that refused to go where he needed it, he slammed a palm against the wall beside it, standing still with heaving breaths.

“I’m sorry.”

Eyes closing, head bowed, he took a beat to gather himself before even thinking of answering.  
“What’s done is done,” he mutters, wrenching the screw into place with a final savage grunt.

He heard a sigh from beside him, and forced himself to ignore it. To ignore the urge to apologise. To fall back into age old habits they’d had since child hood.

“We-“  
She cut herself off, the single word echoing a bit down the tunnel behind them.

Din kept a sharp ear in that direction, keeping track for any sounds out of place that might indicate movement or an impending attack.

Continuing in silence, finally they finished, only needing to connect the two systems.  
Fortunately, they were left alone to their work. It didn’t make Din feel any better as he finished connecting the two systems to each other.

He and Raga both attached the ammo supplier into the guns.

Grabbing a nearby can- paint?- Raga threw it.   
As soon as it hit the target area for the motion sensors, the guns aimed and shot.

500 bullets in each. 500 shots.

Din hoped every one of them made it count, as they exited the tunnels, slamming the bolts down on the doors behind them.  
Before they could make their way back, Raga grabbed his arm.  
“Din wait.”  
He stopped, forcing himself to breathe, rather than snap at her once more.

“what.” He grit out, between clenched teeth.

A heavy sigh.  
“I know-“ she hesitated, before continuing.  
“I know this will likely mean nothing to you, but-“ she sighed.  
“I’m still sorry. I can’t excuse my past actions. I was blind, and rather than talk to you after your buir’s death, after-“  
“Don’t.”  
He turned to face her, voice softening.  
“Don’t say his name.”

Head tilting forward, she acquiesced.   
“After his death, I focused on my own pain. On Paz’s pain. And in return we left you to deal with your own grief alone.”

He bowed his head, first clenching below her grip.

Then he let his fingers drop open with a sigh.

“We can’t change the past,” he murmured.  
“No,” she stepped closer, and he turned to full face her properly as she released his wrist, before putting her hand forward.  
“But it doesn’t have to ruin our future.”

Huffing, he glanced up at her visor, seeing the cautious posture she was holding, and reached forward, clasping their forearms together.

“This is the way.”  
He heard the relief in her voice, saw the sag in her shoulders as a tension was released.

“This is the way.”

After a second, he tilted his head.  
“We should get back.”“Yeah, yeah.”

They made their way back, side by side, before they saw Cara and Leave-it ahead of them.

Raga looked back at him in time to see him gesture with his chin toward the pair ahead. When they reached the door back to the room the others were waiting, instead of entering with him, Raga continued forward toward Cara, leaving Din to enter the room alone.

Corin was playing with the kid.  
The sight, after the emotional turmoil of his conversation with Raga, was enough for him to smile, eyes sing soft. Just in time for his leg to hit something, making him stumble.

Catching himself, glad for the helmet hiding his blush, he made his way over, hesitating for only a second when he saw Corin was standing next to Paz. Rather than let it deter him, he continued forward to check on Corin, finally given the chance to ask if he was okay.


	16. Packing (shit-will probably redo at some point)

Corin felt like he was experiencing whiplash.  
The emotional turmoil of his conversation with Paz had affected him deeply. He curled tight around the kid as he answered Din, distracted. He didn’t understand why Paz didn’t blame him. Surely it was his fault? But then it was also Kiergan’s fault? So it wasn’t?

He realised he had been frowning down at the ground, lips pursed against the kids cooing face, when Din reached a hand forward, lightly touching his elbow.  
Flustered and guilty, he shuffled awkwardly with the kid in his arms, playing with the baggy cloth of his clothes.  
“Sorry.”

He glances up, Din’s head tilting to the side in front of him. Before he can say or do anything, Omera calls out to the room, and pulls their attention away from each other. Din’s hand drops back down to his side, leaving a small tingle behind when he steps away.  
Clearing his throat, hiking the kid up in his arms, Corin gestures over to where everyone is once again congregating around the table, this time joined by Paz, as he’s supported by Cara, a bit unsteady on his feet.  
Probably the pain, Corin thinks viciously, before stamping down on his guilt. 

Paz didn’t blame him, and he wasn’t someone to pull punches. If he said so, it must be true? Right?

“We should get going,” he steps forward quickly, striding past the mandalorian.

He felt a brush against his shoulder when the mandalorian came to a stop beside him, shoulder to shoulder.  
With a swallow, he focussed heavily on the table in front of him, ducking his head down after he saw Cara’s smirk. What was so amusing?

“Alright,” Omera once again cut through his thoughts, drawing him back to the conversation at hand.  
“The entrances are sealed, and turrets are set up,” Din and Raga both send a nod in her direction.  
“Then we’ve bought ourselves some time. We’ll set up a channel, blast noise through it for as long as we can. Leave the lights on, and hopefully that’ll be enough to draw the organisms’ attention.”

Cara raised her hand slightly, cocking her head.  
“What happens if it doesn’t”

“Then we’re dead.”

The mood plummeted. With a deep sigh, Omera continued, folding her arms in front of her chest.  
“If we can’t draw their attention here, and sneak quietly to the radios, then it won’t take long before they manage to sweep through the building, and find us.”  
She glanced up and around the table.  
“I don’t mean to make the odds seem impossible, but these things-“  
Another breath, this one a bit shaky.  
“These things are ruthlessly efficient.”

Cara nodded thoughtfully.  
“We can play static, just play any open channel that doesn’t have a signal, turn it up all the way.”  
With a sharp nod, Omera grins in her direction,  
“Good idea.”

“Dark, it be soon.”  
Corin almost didn’t hear it, half chewed into his shirt as it was.

The kid’s large eyes circled the room, a horrifying wisdom deep within.  
“Soon come, the monsters.”

Corin shifted his arms to hug the kid in a tight grip as everyone shared glances around the table.  
“We should get moving.”Beside him, the mandalorian nudged his shoulder when he turned, walking away from the table with his ominous one liner.

“Well, that was dramatic.”  
Paz grinned at Corin, gaze softening when he glanced down at the kid. Everyone in agreement, they got ready to move out. Out of the corner of his eye, Corin could see Cara applying one last application of bacta, and Raga grabbed Paz’s helmet, clipping the twisted metal onto the side of her belt.

Corin moved out of everyone’s way, content with watching as everyone packed up the few weapons they could easily carry, the ammo they would need, and Paz got dressed back in his metal armour. Corin wasn’t sure how effective it would be, warped and twisting, leaving severe openings on his chest, shoulders and arms.  
Then Cara caught his eye, hoisting her heavy gun up onto her shoulder, Raga over her other one, loading every weapon in her personal arsenal.  
With guards like that, Corin couldn’t really think of a way Paz could be safer.

A touch against his shoulder.  
The mandalorian had joined him, leaning against the wall beside him, shoulders brushing together with every slight shift.  
He dipped his head to look down at the kid.  
He felt odd. He really hoped he wasn’t coming down with something.

“How’re you holding up?”  
The low voice beside him prompted him to glance toward the Beskar helmet, visor trained forward into the busy room in front of them.

“Fine,” he grinned down when the kid reached up to grip his chin in their little claws with a coo.

A small sound beside him. Behind the visor, now tilted down at the little green face, he could swear there would be a smile behind it. His smile widened a bit, even as he winced when a claw pricked his skin.  
He pulled the claws away from his face.   
The smile dropped off his face when he saw the company man staring at them from across the room. He didn’t like the look on his face. He didn’t like the way he was openly staring at the kid.

He turned sideways, hiding the kid from view with his arms. Then he realised he was now inches away from the Beskar clad arm now in front of him. He became far too aware of his breath, seeing the distorted reflection in the steel in front of him.

He glanced up at the visor, now staring straight into his face.

Before he could do anything embarrassing, Omera called out to Leave-it and Hauroko to hurry their packing. With a shake of his head, Corin shuffled on the spot, frowning slightly at the odd feeling in his chest.

He really hoped he wasn’t coming down with something.


	17. Exit

After being pulled away from Corin, attention taken by Omera calling out for everyone to finish their preparations, Din felt himself shuffle guiltily. He was here on a job. His job was to stay near and protect Omera. Falling in l- finding a new friend was not a part of that job description. He had to stay focussed.   
Without a backwards glance, he walked across the room to join Omera where she was hoisting a small bag over her shoulder. He steadfastedly ignored the sleazy look of the company man as Din passed him. He couldn’t be bothered remembering his name. 

“Need any help?”  
She looked up at the sound of his voice with a small smile. 

“I’m good. Thank you.”  
She paused, tilting her head as she looked at something over his shoulder, before her gaze refocused back on his visor.   
“Wasn’t expecting time see you the rest of this trip,” she grinned wryly, apparently humoured by the mild explanation of the mission so far.   
Din fought the urge to squirm under her gentle, but far too knowing eyes. 

“My job is to keep you safe.”  
He chose to give nothing away, not entirely sure what she was looking for anyway. With another small smile, a sad cast to her face, she turned away and prepared to lead everyone forward, joining Raga where she stood by the back entrance. Following after her, he sent a brief nod Raga’s way. Then tensed when he heard a shuffling step beside him.   
Out if the corner of his eye, Paz looked into view, still oddly vulnerable without his helmet to guard his face.   
After his talk with Raga, he no longer felt that burning anger that had been itching under his skin for so long. That particular conversation had muted it.   
But he still knew there was a particular subject up in the air between them, that left a lot of conflict to be resolved. 

After finally reaching some kind of closure with Raga, Din allowed himself to feel the cautious hope that the same was possible with his once-brother. 

For now he could focus on his mission.   
With hearts in their throats and a spiking tension resounding through the room, Omera signalled for Cara to set the timer. They would have five minutes to put as much space between them and this room before it would end, and the radios it was hooked up to crackled to life, hopefully luring the organisms here and buying them time before they were being hunted once more.   
Darkness had fallen almost ten minutes ago. From what the kid said, they didn’t have long before they were under attack. Hopefully this worked. 

They set out. Din kept to the front, near Omera, but gave her space to lead the way, Raga by her back, tracker held out and sweeping to detect any movement. Cara walked past him, joining the duo and standing shoulder to shoulder with her cyare.   
Din wasn’t sure how comfortable he felt when that left him with some manner of privacy next to Paz, who was now walking side by side with him. He kept his eyes forward. A muttered voice was almost enough to make him jump, even quiet enough to be partially lost to the ambience of their surroundings.   
“You’ve been avoiding me, troublemaker.”

He choose to glare forward.   
“Didn’t feel like we needed a repeat of last time,” he grit out, not meaning the small confrontation in the locker room. Judging by the humph beside him, Paz understood exactly what incident he was talking about.   
“You can’t really blame me for that though-“  
“I can.”  
Din cut him off, choosing to remain silent after. He would not be drawn into another fight about this. Not again.   
A sharp exhale. At least this conversation wasn’t just getting under his skin. 

The next time he spoke, Paz’s voice was low and angry.   
“You worked with the very same people who destroyed us, you can’t possibly-“  
“I accepted a bounty that would provide for the foundlings. Nothing more. Nothing less. So if you have an issue with that, you should have taken it up with a’lor.”  
He made sure to keep his voice even. No point giving Paz more ammunition. 

“You accepted a bounty, from the imp-“  
He shoved a carefully calculated elbow into Paz’s side when his voice rose, cutting his rant off pre-emptively.   
“I accepted a bounty, from an imp,” he agreed.  
“An imp who was part of a dying Empire, and who was going after another imp. Out of the two, he was the lesser evil, especially when we were desperate.”  
Din wasn’t sure why he was explaining all this. Paz would already know. Maybe he was just hoping to get it through to him. To make him understand.   
He wasn’t sure why he cared.   
Maybe because of his conversation with Raga. Or maybe he was just sick of fighting the same fight, over, and over again.   
He heaved a deep sigh, feeling his shoulders slump. 

“Believe what you want Paz, but there’s no need to take it out on me. I’m not a part of you clan anymore, remember?”  
He pushed aside the bitter taste the words left in his mouth. Why did he ever allow himself to hope he could reconcile with Paz. To him, he would always be dar’manda. At least that he could be sure of. 

He saw Raga turn to face them up ahead, head cocked and posture tense. He couldn’t tell who she was looking at, if she was even looking at either of them. 

He just kept going forward, this time determined to ignore any aggravations Paz threw his way.   
Another one chair from behind him. Her took a deep breath, grit his teeth and prepared himself for whatever barb would come at him next. 

“You’re not dar’manda.”  
Din almost stopped out of shock. After everything, surely he can’t have heard that right? He couldn’t help the snort that came from under his helm.   
Paz sighed deeply beside him. 

“I spoke harshly that day, and outcast you out if fear and anger. But you are not, and have never been an outsider or soulless.”  
Din resolutely ignored the pinprick of heat behind his eyes, maintaining his silence. 

“I’m sorry-“ a Vizla, apologising?- “for what I have said to you, and for the distance I created between us.”  
Din didn’t trust himself to speak. So instead he continued to stare ahead in silence, the noise around him muted as he focused on the beeping of the tracker ahead. After all this time, Paz would just apologise, and take it all back? Just like that? After everything that has been done and said between them-

“You’re right.”  
He refused to look at the movement beside him, at the bare face he could half see turned his way.   
“You did outcast me.”

He took a deep breath.   
“I want to know the real reason why.”


	18. Tension

Ahead of him, Corin could see Paz and the silver mandalorian muttering quietly to eachother. He stuck back, the kid in his arms, tense and looking around. Its ears were dropped, and its little claws were clothing tight to the cloth of Corins shirt and kevlar. He wasn’t sure why it seemed so scared, but it had him on edge. Enough that when Paz’s voice rose to a higher level, he stalled, biting down an echoed whimper as he tried to comfort the kid in his arms. He didn’t know why, but he felt completely rattled when it came to the organisms, like they tugged at some deep rooted fear. Maybe an echo of a nightmare he’d created as a child. He always _did_ have troubles with them when he was young.

Corin shook himself out of that train of thought. Nothing good would come out of thinking of his past. That was just a plethora of bad luck he didn’t need to focus on.

Beside him, Leave-it and Hauroko were whispering back and forth to eachother, but Corin couldn’t be bothered trying to tune in and listen to what they were saying. Instead, he found himself drifting into a zone of indifference, absent mindedly bunting the kid in his arm and whispering hushed assurances to them while his mind flowed along freely, detached from reality and distant form everything around him.

So _easy_ , to fall into a spiral form there.

He wondered back to exiting the room, and heading into the corridor to start their journey to the radio. Recalled how Din had seemed to tense up, and had walked away without a word. It had felt like they were still in the middle of a conversation. Maybe he had done something wrong?

The kid squeaked in his arms, claws beginning to poke viciously through his clothes and prick his skin. Hissing, he saw the kid was now throwing his head around, eyes wide, and ears pinned against his head. Small whimpers were escaping, and they were starting to shift and scratch in his grip.  
He frowned down at the kid, grimacing as he struggled to hold the kid still.

Then they stilled, burrowing deeper into his arms, and dragging themselves further up his chest.  
“What an interesting creature.”  
Corin tensed, shoulders drawing up as he tightened his grip around the kid at the smooth voice from far too close near his shoulder.  
He glanced up at the company man’s face, far too close for comfort, and picked up his pace little. Then slowed back down, unwilling to push forward and possibly interrupt the conversation still happening between Paz and the other mandalorian, but feeling incredibly uncomfortable with the way Gideon was following him, staring at the kid with an uncanny fascination in his eyes.  
“I must say, I don’t believe I’ve ever seen anything quite like it.”

Corin hiked the kid up higher, turning his shoulder toward Gideon to block the kid from his view, as much as possible. He didn’t say a thing, not wanting to open the door for conversations and hoping he would get the hint.  
The kid mumbled against his chest, head swivelling to look forward, in the direction the group was headed, and with another small whimper, shrunk even further against him. Corin wasn’t sure how that was even possible.

“You know,” Corin had forgotten the company man was still inside his personal space, like bad luck breathing down his neck.  
“That creature has some truly interesting survival skills, being able to survive against such perfect killing machines, for so many weeks.”  
With a twist of his mouth, Corin remained looking forward, not entirely focused at looking anywhere, just resolute in ignoring the man beside him.

“It must have some good survival instincts-“  
“IT is a KID,” he grit out, between clenched teeth.

He almost felt the defeat to his bones, when he felt the smugness radiate off the man.  
An intake of breath, as he opened his mouth to speak again, Corin tensing up, mentally preparing himself to not react.

“Corin.”  
Then the mandalorian was there, casually stepping into the small gap between the two, and completely blocking the man off.  
Feeling some tension leech from his shoulders, Corin glanced up into the dark visor of the mandalorians helmet.  
He gave a jerky nod, fingers playing with the cloth of the kids clothes.

“You okay?” The mandalorian asked in a low voice.  
Another nod.  
“Yeah, I’m good.”  
He was barley aware of the huff as the man turned and stepped away behind the beskar clad shoulder.  
The helmet tilted, and the mandalorian took a breath, maybe about to speak?

Then Corin heard the tracker up the front of the group beep a warning, and everyone in the group fell silent. All except the kid in his arms, that let out a small shriek, and began a new struggle to jump out of Corin’s arms.  
“Coming, monster! Coming, monster is! Coming!”

He glanced up into the visor once more, vaguely paying attention when everyones attention turned from the tracker up ahead, to the kid in his arms.

The organisms were here.


	19. Surpriiise

Din tensed, the kids cries coming like a small chant, forewarning the coming danger. It must have better hearing than they did.

He turned back to look at it, seeing that Omera didn’t know what to do. It was trying to wiggle free again. He knelt down in front of it quickly, hand resting on Corin’s elbow while the kid stopped struggling long enough to look into his visor.

“Where did you go?”

He had to hope the kid understood what he was asking.

“Hide,” it whimpered, before throwing its weight out of Corins grip, landing heavily on the ground, and running straight toward a vent. Faster than Din had thought it would be able to run with such small limbs.  
It couldn’t get the vent open.

Pushing himself upright, he looked back at Omera, who caught his gaze, and nodded.

With a tilt of his head, he tugged on Corins shirt, still gripped between his fingers.  
“Everyone, into the vents, anywhere you can get that’s out of sight.”

He pushed Corin after the kid, ignoring the chaotic scramble that broke out around them, as everyone darted this way or that to try find an open vent door. He ignored the moronic ramblings of the company man who tried, and failed, to argue with Omera that it wasn't necessary. That the nest was behind them, so why should they hide just because a small child was throwing a fit. Din would resolve that notion later.

They reached the kid, who had begun to freeze in terror, tears filling their eyes and claws scratching uselessly at the metal before them. Corin pulled him into his lap, giving Din room to pop out the loose screws of the opening, leaving one in a top corner. He stood to the side, swinging it up and open.  
“Hurry.”  
Corin pushed the kid in first, following after.

The other soldiers were pushing themselves into a vent further down from them. Omera and Cara were on the other walls across. Raga was still facing the movement, tracker in hand. Din couldn’t see where Paz had gone. Gideon and the droid were both missing too.

A tug on his pants had him folding forward, crawling into the gap with a small grunt, wiggling when he felt his shoulders catch on the side. It was a tight fit, but a fit all the same.  
In the narrow space, he forced his body to contort until he was twisted on his side, legs thrown out the other way, accidentally kicking into Corin if the hiss he heard was anything to go by. He shuffled down, feeling heat pressed against him all the way to his hip, where a hand fell and gripped tight into his clothing with the jostling his movements caused. He felt small pinpricks on his upper thigh just as he used the hand not propping himself up, to lift the grate up into its closed position. To hide their location. Then he stopped moving, arm straining with the effort of holding the metal up.  
Across the room, through the small gaps, he could see the panel in the other wall close as well.

Then he saw movement under the floor, between the gaps of the metal there. Blue and grey. Flashes of red, and a muffled beeping that quickly shut off. Paz and Raga had gone below.

Just in time. He heard a snarling, the echoing of heavy steps, and the creaking of metal.

Something dropped from the ceiling with a heavy thud that reverberated through the connected materials, shaking the loose piece still in his hand. He gasped out a breath, shifting to try improve his grip. It was starting to slip between his gloved fingers. If it did, they were dead.  
He lifted his mouth in a silent snarl as he tried desperately to tighten his grip.

A snarl, closer now. The metal shifted in his hand, sliding metal against metal for a split second. Enough to draw the creatures attention, as the footsteps thudded, closer, and closer.  
Baring his teeth, he clawed his fingertips in, but it was no use. He could feel it giving, against the soft material of the cloth.

Until a weight draped itself forward, heavily across his side and shoulder. A bare hand came into view, securing a stronger grip beside his, and giving him a chance to adjust his own.

Another heavy breath and hiss, right outside, before the footsteps faded away.

Din forced himself to take slow, quiet breaths. He couldn’t chance a sigh. Not when he wasn’t certain that it was gone. Clearly Corin felt the same, heat remaining steadfast against him, hand holding the vent firmly. Tiny pricks moved against his thigh as the kid shifted slightly, pushing further weight against his leg as it dragged itself up onto him.

He would wait as long as it took, for Raga to give the all clear.


	20. Idea

Paz stilled, eyes trained on the light above him. Beside him, Raga was equally as quiet, and tense. They waited with bated breath. After going a couple minutes with no other sound, Raga pulled her tracker free, covering the speaker with a gloved hand to muffle the beeps, and started it up again. Pointing it down the way the organism had just fled, it was gone.  
She pointed it all around them, swinging it to make a full circle around her. For now, the coast was clear.

Setting his jaw, Paz reached up, gripping the floor grate, and stood. Pushing it to the side, his shoulders cleared the floor’s level, the space below only reaching up to the bottom of his chest. It had been a very comfortable fit.

No sign of anything either. He shared a glance with Raga, who nodded. Still clear.

With a heave, he pulled himself up and out, before knelling to help her out as well. On either side of them, everyone slowly opened and crawled out of their hiding spots. Paz looked away at the sight of the extremely, close proximity of Din and Corin. If anyone asked, the twitch on his face was just a trick of the light. Of course, that left his line of sight open for Cara, who was openly smirking at the two as Din pulled himself free and onto the ground, kid gripping tight to one leg.  
The awkward tumble definitely made Paz wish he still had a camera. Though if the direction of Raga’s head was any indication, the moment had been captured.

Within a few more seconds, everyone was out and free. All except the company and and the droid. Paz glanced around with a frown. Yeah, the two were definitely gone. There was no time to worry abut that now though.

“They’re everywhere,” Leave-it burst out, voice tinged with fear.  
“They’re not just in their nest, they’re- they’re everywhere! They’re all in front of us to-“  
“Leave-it! Calm down!” Corin snapped, hoisting the kid up back to his chest.

Cara was the next to speak up.  
“We’ve still got the noise makers we made back in the room, that’ll still draw their attention-“  
“And bring them right to us,” Hauroko cut her off, face tense.

“Unless,” Paz started to talk, and idea slowly forming. Raga was not going to like it.  
“Unless someone draws their attention away.”

Multiple people spoke at once, filling the air with noise, as multiple disagreements started up against the idea.

“Enough.”  
Din’s voice cut through the air, silencing everyone.  
“Keep, your voices, down,” he grit out in a lowered tone, threat suggested by every muscle in his body. Some people looked down in shame, others flushed, while more grit their teeth.  
Raga had been suspiciously silent for someone Paz had thought would be the biggest contender against the idea.

“I’ll do it.”  
Oh, that explained why.  
Cara and himself both protested immediately.  
“Why not?” She bristled, anger and tension etched into her stance.

“Because it should be me,” Hauroko spoke up, starting another protest, this time from Leave-it.

With a full body sigh, head tilting up then back, Paz decided to end the discussion.

“We’re not looking for stealth for a distraction, that’s why I should go, But-“ He cut off Raga before she could even open her mouth.”  
“I can go with you,” Hauroko said.

“I was the main one for causing a disturbance for Leave-it and- and Kiergan.”  
She swallowed thickly at Kiergan’s name. Beside her, Leave-it reached out, grasping her shoulder tightly.

“I’m good at being loud,” Cara said, hoisting her gun up to lean on her shoulder. Beside him, Paz could see the small shakes of Raga’s head, the clenching and unclenching of her fists. Then the tension leeched out, and in a lowered, defeated tone, she spoke.

“I’ll stay with the group, get them to the radio’s,” she turned to shove harshly at Paz’s chest, before brandishing a finger at Cara.  
“You better make it there!”

She stalked off, head down and focused intently on the tracker in her hand. Paz was pulled back from going after her by a hand on his shoulder, before Cara slipped past him and up to Raga’s side, handing her something he couldn’t see. Whatever it was, she whirled around, gripping Cara by the necks and pulling her forward harshly until their foreheads met. Staying still for a moment, Raga released her before walking back to him, and pulling him down to the same.  
“You come back safe, you hear me,” she whispered, emotion clogging her voice.

He forced himself to ignore the pricks behind his eyes or the blurred lines between his mostly closed eyelids, nodding his head against the coolness of her helmet.  
“We will,” he murmured, before pulling away, and facing the group.


	21. Divided

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I no longer have any idea if I'm writing anything that makes sense, my brain is just dead and gone... poof

Wrapping his arms tight around the kid, Corin watched the scene unfold, feeling his own emotions rise up as he watched the usually stoic, light-hearted Raga crack, floodgates opening when Paz suggested he cause a distraction.  
He ducked his head down, focusing his attention down on the green head below him, Big soulful eyes blinking up at him as tiny claws reached up to rest against his chin. Looking into his eyes, blue meeting a deeper brown, he smiled softly down at the small face as those big eyes went crosseyed, trying to stare at the chin right in front of them.

With a small, soft laugh, he found himself bouncing his arms again, now just a natural reaction to holding the small body in his arms. He wasn’t sure how old the kid was. It seemed to have a fair measure of intelligence, clearly, considering it’s survival ability. It also showed some more immature characteristics, more in line with a toddler as well. It was an odd mix, and Corin found himself wondering if it was just a characteristic of their species, or possibly a neurological or trauma based situation that caused the behavioural disconnect.  
He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. He wasn’t licensed or a therapist. He was just a grunt. A soldier. Those things weren’t any part of his job, and weren’t important.

Omera spoke up, drawing everyone’s attention, as she and Raga decided on an action going forward. Paz, Cara and Hauroko would go, and find a way to try draw the organisms away, and ultimately clear the road completely for them to reach the radios, and a way out.

With that, they were gone. They went down the corridor, same as the second group, before ducking through an open doorway, and splitting up. Corin watched as they went through the darkened room, before a small touch on his elbow drew his attention away from the disappearing figures and back to the visor of a silver helmet. He resolutely ignored the memory of body heat, and the strength of muscle beneath him.

He went with him, vibrantly aware of the small, barely-there contact of the mandalorians hand against his elbow, before it fell away. He was starting to recognise what that tight feeling in his chest was, but he ignored it. Besides, he didn’t even know the mandalorians name.  
The kid whimpered, cuddling close to his chest.  
“Alright, you be?”

He smiled down at the small head agin.  
“Yeah, I’m alright kiddo.”  
He ducked a quick kiss to the top of their head, wondering if he was getting too attached, while simultaneously already aware of the answer.  
“I’m alright.”

Ahead of him, the mandalorian was looking back at the kid, head tilted, before he faced around again. Instead of striding ahead, he stepped to the side, and waited fro Corin to come to his side, before matching his pace.  
A sigh from beside him, before he spoke to Corin in a low voice.

“You’ll be okay, we’ll get you, and the kid out safely.”  
Even though he knew they were talking about the group, Corin couldn’t hope but wish that the mandalorian was talking about just him and the kid in his arms. With a grimace, he mentally berated his selfish thoughts. He didn’t want anyone to be left behind, but he had no right to long for the mandalorians attention. He was a faceless, nameless man. Corin shouldn’t want his attention and care anyway.

“Hey,” another soft touch to his arm, and Corin realised he’d been glaring at the ground in front of him as they walked.  
He looked up to meet the visor once more. For a beat, there was nothing.  
“I promise,” the mandalorian sighed, “I’ll get you two- I’ll get everyone out safely, you hear me?”  
His voice remained, soft and gentle, and Corin could only wish, for a great number of things.

He didn’t even know him, he was a stranger! They’d met less than two days ago. He needed to get a grip. It was just the adrenaline.

He nodded faintly, mouth quirking up.  
“You get out safe too, in this together, right?”

After all, they were part of a team now, right?


	22. Coincidence?

Din had never been more glad for his helmet, feeling flustered as warmth spread through him at Corin’s words.  
He forced a jerky nod, before turning to face the front with a small cough. Now wasn’t the time for dopey smiles and attr-Friendship!  
He still couldn’t stop the tension drifting off his face at the movement and whispering in his peripheral as Corin did his best to entertain and comfort the kid. 

He shook his head harshly, barley noting Corin whip to face him at the movement. Now wasn’t the time. They were in serious danger, and were now separated into two different, from one of Din’s own clan no less. He needed to pull himself together, and focus. He could deal with everything else off-planet.

Everyone in the group startled when they heard the echo and shudder of a loud explosion in the near distance.

“Paz-“ Raga’s strangled whisper seemed to scream out in the deathly silence that followed. Made sense. He always was one for making mayhem.  
The echo of gunfire followed, the unnatural screams of the creatures followed.

The tracker in Raga’s hand beeped.

The air seemed to chill, Din whirled around to face her, to survey the possible threat. She was facing the direction of the noise. The tracker was facing that way. The movement wasn’t ahead of them.  
With a sigh, Din walked forward, and gently took the tracker from her hand.

“They’ll be okay,” he murmured, before slowly pushing past her to take her place at the front of the group, and get everyone moving again.

“We don’t have time to stop.”

He heard Corin’s voice behind him, but he had a new task he needed to focus on. He pulled his blaster out, holding it in a loose grip as he walked, focus differing between scanning the area, and keeping an eye on the tracker.

Then it beeped.

He stopped. He lifted his blaster up and forward, toward the movement. The beeping got louder, quicker. It wasn’t directly in front. It was through a pair of doors. The writing on them too damaged and faded for him to make sense of it. Might have been an -A-B-. He wasn’t sure.  
Face twisting with determination, finger resting against the trigger, he circled to face the doors head on, and whatever was coming their way.

“Din..” Raga murmured from off to the side, but he ignored her, deadly focus plastered to the approaching target.  
Was he imagining it, or could he hear movement?

His finger twitched, tightening a fraction on the steel of his blaster as his shoulder rolled, taking a more careful aim.  
The handle twisted- wait, what?

Slowly, the door peeled open, and a face peered out of the dark.

With a huffing sigh, tension tight in his bones, Din lowered his blaster.  
“Gideon, what are you doing here.”  
It wasn’t quite a question. Din didn’t really care for the answer. Didn’t really care how he’d gotten here or where he’d gone to find his way here.   
He didn’t quite get an answer anyway.

With a concerning excitement, Gideon waved them over.  
“I’ve found something. Come quick.”  
He disappeared back through the door, it swinging shut with a small click, deafening in the silence of the corridor.  
When had the sounds of the other group faded away?

Fingers wrapping tighter around the grip of his gun, Din glanced back at the others.

No one looked too excited at the prospect of going after the company man.   
He found himself drawn to a pair of shocking blue eyes, glinting in the dark, steps away from him, face twisted with concern and something else. Something Din wasn’t sur ehe could name if he tried.

Omera was the one to break the following seconds of silence.  
“We can’t just leave him here,” she didn’t sound completely certain, “we should at least go after him to bring him back with us.”

With obvious reluctance, everyone appeared to agree.

A silent snarl, and Din turned to face the door again. He really didn’t like this.


	23. Boo

Waiting to follow the mandalorians lead - he didn’t quite hear what Raga had called him, and he didn’t want to steal his choice of giving Corin his name- Corin watched him, concerned with how tense he seemed.  
The kid cooed in his arms, reaching three little claws out toward the silver man.

Omera moved forward to the door, and the mandalorian followed. With a deep breath, Corin shifted the kid in his grip, and followed, along with the rest of their group, as they went after the company man- Gideon. It felt like bad luck was laughing at him, circling the group, as he walked straight into the darkness after the glinting armour in front of him.  
Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

It was a lab. At least it used to be. It was completely trashed, at least, what he could make out in the dim light was.

He rolled his shoulders, starting to feel the ache of holding the small weight in his arms pull against his muscles.  
Up ahead silver glinted dangerously as a strip of light fell blindingly through the darkness. Behind him, Corin could hear the murmuring and shifting of the others. In front of him, he stayed focused on that silver.  
The kid gripped his arms with a small sound.

Deep breaths soldier.

He cleared the doorway, entering the light. It was a short corridor, a small chamber between the two different labs. The door hissed as it shut behind him, and a hiss echoed from in front. He was blocked off.  
His back hit the steel behind him, he smacked at the exit button beside him. He glanced this way, and that. Nothing. The power was on, the light still working above him, but the door remained firmly shut and so far there didn’t seem to be anything else happening.

“Corin?”  
A muffled voice behind him, female. Raga.  
He looked over his shoulder, through an obscure pane of glass giving him a small view of her dimmed helm. He wasn’t sure what his face looked like, but it felt tense.

He heard banging in front of him. Silver appeared in the glass of that door as the mandalorian ducked down, maybe to look at the mechanics of the door?

Deep breaths.  
It felt like bad luck. He shifted the kid in his grip, looking up and around the short space.

He heard muffled sounds in front and behind him, echoing softly through the room as they banged and shook the doors and their mechanics.

Then, a vent opened up ahead of him. On the ceiling, a small space widened, until something fell down, and hit the floor with a soft splat.

He felt himself tense, going for his blaster, whipping stout to point it at the small organism in front of him. One of the, Omera had called them “Face-huggers’.

Its, limbs? Fingers? Twitched, before it jumped to life, scuttling off to the side of the rooms against the wall. Copying its movement, staying the furthest away room it he could, Corin wound up in a corner, blaster gained at the creature.  
Until a second one dropped down beside it, sending it scuttling closer to him.

Back slamming painfully into the walls behind him, Corin felt himself begin to shake, tremors running through his limbs, blaster aim wavering as it darted between the two. Banging and shouting increased, in volume as well as intensity.

He could feel his muscles locking up, wanting to freeze. Nightmares come to life in front of his eyes all over again. He pushed the kid, with one hand, further into his chest, turning its face away. He really wished he had a helmet. Something to help him if the huggers decided to attack.

The second one flinched, and he felt himself jerk in response. The two scuttled closer, on opposite sides of the space, pressed against the wall, tail like appendages whipping and dragging behind their quick movements.

With short tense breaths, Corin felt the tenseness reach his hand. Soon, he might not be able to pull the trigger. Why wasn’t he already shooting? What was he waiting for? He needed to shoot!

They came even closer. He felt a knee buckle beneath him, sending his weight even further into the corner.  
Chest heaving, he felt something trickle down his face. It wasn’t hot, why was he sweating?

Another flinch, and his shoulder slammed against the steel, jerking the blaster off target for a split second. Enough for them to shuffle closer once more. They were close. Too close. Why wasn’t he shooting. He needs to shoot! Shoot them!

A blaster scorched the metal in front of one, sending it flying back a short distance as it leaped for safety. The other pressed itself flat against the wall, pausing.

Fingers flexing against the grip of his blaster, a husky breath escaped Corin. A headache built up behind his eyes. The pounding of the doors, the yelling of the others far from faded out of his focus. Everything split between the two creatures in front of him. The two threats.  
Bad luck, waiting to strike.

Something hissed, the second organism leaped forward, Corin turned his body, blaster flying to meet it as he covered the kid with his own body for protection.  
A flash and a shower of gold sparks flew over his face.

Wide eyed, he watched, barely focussed enough to register a second, smaller blast, scaring off the first creature, and sending it leaping, up the wall and back into the ceiling.

When did he start trembling?  
Hands grabbed at him, pulling him up. When did he start sliding down the door?  
“Corin!”  
Everything snapped back to awareness. He flinched at the influx of noise. There wasn’t much, but it was more than he’d been prepared to deal with.

A gloved hand came up with a soft grip to his jaw, tugging his face to stare aimlessly at a field of silver. Blue. He could see blue.  
Green.

Everything rushed back in. He was staring at his reflection in a. helmet. Eyes wide enough he could see the blue, even in the dim light, even distorted as it was.  
He focussed on the black of the visor.

There were still hands, on his shoulders, and under an arm. To the side, Raga was beside him, supporting his weight. A shaky exhale, and some more pressure had him turning back toward the black visor in front of him.  
He nodded, shaky and uncertain, but not wanting to worry anyone, He could still do his job. He was fine.

With a sigh, the mandalorian looked for a moment more, before stepping back slowly, the warmth of his hadn’t going with him. Corin barely managed to stop himself elating forward after it. That would have been embarassing.   
He ducked his head down, seeing a small green face look up at him, assurance and trust in those big brown eyes.  
Stroking a small cheek with his thumb, Corin slowly pushed his weight forward, back onto his feet. Raga’s hand slid down to his elbow.

“I’m- I’m okay,” he turned his head, giving her a small smile in reassurance. He could still do his job. Nothing had happened. Just a brush with bad luck, but he was fine. He’d been saved.  
Next time, he’d make sure no one needed to save him. He didn’t need anyone putting themselves into danger over him.  
He looked back down at the kid. They probably did it for them. With a small frown, he wondered if it would be better to give the kid to someone else, someone more capable. Someone who could ensure their protection completely.

His arms wrapped tighter around the kid, blaster digging into one of his forearms.  
No, he couldn’t- he took a deep breath, only vaguely aware of movement and sound around him. He couldn’t give the kid up. Everything about the idea screamed wrong. So, he simply resolved to do better.

Another small touch to his elbow, had him meeting Leave-it’s gaze just as he nodded his head forward.  
“We’re moving.”  
Deep breaths soldier. Deep breaths.

Corin stepped forward, grip tight and warmth pressed against his chest. He couldn’t help a nervous glance up toward the gap in the ceiling, but passed through without drama. Only to exit the doorway, to the mandalorian slamming Gideon into a wall, blaster in his face.


	24. Hurt

Chest heaving, Paz tilted his head upwards, attempting to open up his airways and silence his breaths. Beside him, Cara’s weight was a heavy thing on his shoulder, warmth pressed tight, sticky with blood and sweat.  
Hauroko kept an eye out, finger near the trigger, and aimed at the small, ripped open vent that was their entrance and exit for the cramped space.  
Paz kept a tight grip on the hand between his fingers, feeling small shakes. He couldn’t tell who they were coming from. It could have been either of them.

A nudge against his shoulder. He looked down to see Cara gazing up at him with tired eyes, a streak of blood down the side of her face.  
Swallowing, he bent down to meet her, foreheads connecting for a brief moment, holding for a beat, before a sharp sound outside had his head whipping around.

He couldn’t quite focus, lines blurred and nothing quite as sharp as he needed it to be. He was still recovering from losing sight in one eye from the acid spray, what felt like a lifetime ago now, but had been mere hours earlier.  
Now he had to keep blinking the blood, sweat and filth out as it kept stinging his eyes and blurring his vision further.  
A hiss across form them. Hauroko was propped heavily against the small wall opposite the duo, her free hand pressed tight against the trickle of blood still coming from between the slash sin her Kevlar.

When Paz tried to shift forward, aches and blinding pains forced him to stay still; immobile, useless. Tilting his head back, head resting against the cool metal behind him, he fought the rising nausea and light headedness. They didn’t have time for this. They had to keep moving.  
With a pained grunt, he would never admit had ended with a whisper of a whimper, he forced himself to sit forward again, getting a knee beneath him, and bending his back against the top of their small hide out.  
Cara’s hand, previously clutched in his, now rested with a tight grip against his back, as he forced himself to awkwardly shuffle forward, toward the small gap. He paused before he reached it, tilting his head this way and that, trying to catch any possible sounds that could mean trouble.

Steeling his nerves, he leaned down, weight landing on one of his arms and sending a jolt of pain through it, and peered out into the dim corridor. No snarling face or barbed tail appeared before him to drag him out.  
He glanced back at the two women behind him.  
They were all exhausted, they were all at the end of their ropes.  
They had to keep going, if they wanted to get out.

Biting his lip to force down the pained grunt that threatened to escape, Paz pulled himself forwards and out the entrance, landing heavily against the ground in an awkward, painful crouch.  
With heaving breaths daring to try escape, he kept his jaw tightly clenched, lips pressed together, as he slowly straightened. One knee, then another, pushing up against the wall to stand.  
He looked this way and that, up at the ceiling, below at the floor.

No sounds, no visual. They had a chance to get moving once more.  
He stepped away from the torn open vent, weight swaying, forcing him to rock back and forth between his feet to remain upright.

Hauroko crawled out next, managing a better landing than he had. Then helped Cara out as well, who she immediately passed off to him. The pair leaned against each other in support, attempting to rest for just a moment more, before they’d be forced to seperate and support their weights on their own.  
“Which way now,” Hauroko whispered, glancing between each side of the corridor, blaster held firmly in her grip.

Paz had no idea.

Cara jerked her chin toward Hauroko,  
“Should be an info terminal, or something, nearby.”

Sharing a grim look, the trio set off. All injured. All limping. All slow.  
They could only hope they wouldn’t be too slow.


	25. Gideon

Din has Gideon up against the wall by the throat, blaster shoving a bruise into his jaw. He can feel a tremble racing through his shoulders as his finger twitches softly against the side of the trigger. It’d be easy, so easy, to just press and pull.  
A hand tugs lightly at the forearm braced against the bastard’s neck. With a silent snarl, brain still screaming to just blast his brains, he eases up on the pressure, giving the man some oxygen back.

“Start talking Gideon.”  
Omera’s voice was firm beside him, and dropping back to her side as she stepped back out of his space. Good. Din wasn’t sure he could tolerate anyone being close to him right now. The heat he was pressing his arms into was enough to get his blood boiling.

Catching his breath, the darker man smiles in a sickly charming way back at her.  
“About what,” he rasps out.

Dins fingers flexed in the fists they were formed in, blaster digging a bit further into his skin causing the man to wince. Good.  
Somewhere being him, Omera also wasn’t tolerating the go-around.

“You locked those doors,” she bit out, “and trapped Corin and that child in there, just in time for this, those Things!” She took a breath.  
“To get in there and go after them. So start. Talking.”

The venom in her voice was enough to raise a feral grin onto Din’s lips as he glared daggers into the face in front of him. Twitch.   
It’d be so easy.

None of them was expecting Corin to speak up, voice still sounding so soft and fragile, but growing strength with each word. Growing anger.  
“You wanted a way to get those things back to the company.”

Some soft footsteps approached. Out of his peripheral, Din saw a hint of movement, a flash of green.  
“If we were- if-“ Corin struggled for words against Gideons small smirk.  
“If we were impregnated with them, they might have made it past a security check. And you could have risked the lives of everyone in the galaxy, handing over some of the worst possible parasites, for money,” he spat.

Din fought down a low growl, before opening his own mouth.  
“How did you possibly think that would work.”

“He would’ve had to tie up loose ends.”  
A different voice, Raga.  
“He would’ve had to make sure the rest of us were dead, and would have had to find a way to ensure Corin didn’t say anything.”

He became deathly still, the anger in him becoming more than just a trembling rage. He hoped Corin made sure the kid wasn’t watching. A twitch of his head, a side-eyed glance, and it was confirmed that he had already tucked their head into the crook of his neck.

Din pressed the trigger.

And Gideon laughed.  
“Did you really think I didn’t have a back-up plan?”  
Suddenly, Din felt a sharp pain in his side, just under the softer under-armour he wore beneath his beskar. With a grunt, he stumbled back a step, just enough for Gideon to drop the bloodied knife, and pull his own weapon out from a hidden pocket, pointed squarely into Din’s visor, as he struggled for balance.

He glared up at the short barrel, past it, into the eyes of the traitor, breaths punching out between his clenched teeth in short hissed sounds.  
His focus narrowed down, barely registering the red as it grew in front of him, only focussed on those eyes. He knew those eyes. Why did he know that face?  
“Either way,” the bastard started, “I’ll be glad to see another Mando die.”

A clang sounded from above.  
With a small frown, Gideon looked up. And something flew onto his face.  
Jerking back against the wall, dropping the small gun, hands flying to his face as a muffled scream broke free, Din felt himself lose his balance.  
A strong arm grabbed his waist, pulling him upright against a broad shoulder and supporting his weight as they watched Gideon stumble blindly against the creature now wrapped tightly around his face.  
He felt to his knees, and Din followed the tugging from beside him as the group turned around, and left the room, back the way they had come. With his weight leaning against Corin, hand held tight against his side, Din smiled softly at the big round eyes that turned to stare at him.

Behind them, the screams grew dimmer, before they finally, cut off.


	26. Hope

The weight of the mandalorian, the warmth of the two bodies he was now supporting, was enough to ground Corin. To bring him back to at least a light headed reality. They went back the way they came. He ignored the tension atet rose in his shoulders as they passed through the corridor. Ignored the numbness he felt when the screams finally cut off behind them, plunging them into a stiff, tense silence.

It felt fragile. No one spoke. Everyone seemed to be moving as silently as possible, as if unwilling to shatter the tenuous quiet.  
Eventually, someone had to.

Corin slowed down when the body draped over his shoulder let out a pained grunt. He lead him over to a wall, and was relieved when a second pair of hands helped him lower the mandalorian to the ground. Raga took over, speaking to him softly in a language Corin didn’t understand. It sounded rhythmic, like music.  
He forced himself to step away, to give them space, but a snag against his pants stopped him. A gloved hand gripping onto the fabric, the weakening grip of the silver clad Mando as his visor stared straight through Corin and into his soul.

“Corin,” Raga’s voice was soft as she spoke.  
“Do you have any Bacta on you?”

He fumbled, suddenly vividly remembering the bandages tucked into a pocket of his vest. His hands were shaking. Why were his hands shaking?

He pulled out a series of bandages and passed them off to her, turning around when he saw her rearrange the mandalorians armoury nd go to pull up his Kevlar and shirt. He could at least give them that much privacy.

Around them, no one else was looking either. Corin hoped it was out of respect, you never knew what could affect their creed unless you were told, and not simply because he had turned to face them and essentially blocked any possible view.  
He ignored the small groans behind him as Raga worked.

The kid whimpered in his arms.  
“Safe, not,” they whispered quietly, murmuring into Corins chest as they tuck their head away form the world, repeating the two words like a mantra.

“We’re not far,” Omera called softly to the small group.  
She had opened up a panel a short distance away, a soft light emanating from it. Must be a map of some kind. Something that required minimal power at least.

“We should reach it in just a few minutes if we keep moving and make good time.”

“What about the others?” Raga’s voice was low, as she continued to work on Din, focussed on her task, but worry still leaked through her voice into the open air. Omera faltered.

“We should be able to use the radio signal from the larger signal, and transfer it over somehow or redirect it to short wave, couldn’t we?” Leave-it asked.

“We won’t know,” the mandalorian grunted as he pushed himself to sit straighter, arm held up for Raga to aid him off the floor, “until we try.”  
With a new game plan at the ready, a new point to reach, a new goal to accomplish, the group readied themselves to get moving once more.


	27. Horizon Line

With a heavy limp, body-weight propped up over Raga’s shoulder, Din freely grimaced and snarled quietly under his helmet as each movement tugged at his healing wound. The bacta was working quickly, already he could feel it numbing the area and working it over, and he was slowly able to put more of his weight on his own two feet.

They moved as a small group, huddled together. Raga held her blaster in her free hand, Leave-it with his own, at the back of the group. Even Omera had a weapon in hand. Din himself had a loose grip on his rifle, barely able to maintain his hold on it, let alone aim it. His arm felt like lead. He hoped it was a side affect of the stabbing, and consequent healing from the bacta.

Corin was behind him. He could hear him whispering and murmuring to the child every now and then.  
It lulled him into a sense of apathy, as he concentrated on the low tones, rather than the healing pull he could just barely feel against his ribs.

He jolted when everyone stopped. Slowly, he took his arm off Raga’s shoulder, moving slowly. The bacta was good, but it wasn’t a miracle worker. He would need to move carefully for the next couple hours to make sure he didn’t open the wound up again.  
The last thing they needed, was for him to be up with a giant hole through his side.

Omera was talking. Din shook his head, he needed to pay attention.

A coo almost startled a jump out of him. He turned quickly, fingers clenching around his rifle, before his brain caught up to his body, and he saw the small green face staring at him.   
Corin gave him a weak smile.  
“You doing okay?”

Nodding, Din frowned a bit. When did he start leaning against Corin’s shoulder? He didn’t want to move. It was a nice warmth. In fact, he kind of wanted to tilt his head, rest it in the crook, under Corin’s chin.  
He rocked his weight back onto his feet, and pulled away from Corin’s warmth.

Raga nudged his other shoulder. Standing between the two pillars of heat, Din felt strength return. The bacta must be doing its job. He straightened, rolling his shoulders back and shifting the grip on his rifle to two handed. Patrol stance. The soft patter of feet behind them. Omera barely a few steps ahead. Tight formation.  
Din looked back at Corin, before grabbing his elbow, and swapping places, pushing him into the middle of the group. The kid in his arms let out a small gurgle, reaching out to him. Wagging his finger at them for a split second, Din met Corin’s startled gaze.

“Civilians in the centre,” Din cleared his throat, averting his eyes and shifting his grip again. By the time he looked back up, Corin was nodding in understanding and hoisting the kid further up in his arms. They must surely be getting tired by now, right?

He almost walked into Omera. Barely seeing her out of his peripheral, and registering her presence quick enough to avoid an embarrassing stumble, or collision. He ignored the heat in his face, or Raga’s visor, tilted his way.

They had stopped just before a corner.  
He stepped up beside her.  
“The radio’s are just around there,” she muttered out the side of her mouth.  
With a hum, he made to stalk up, and survey the area. Movement from behind beat him to it, as Raga moved forward, and cautiously, back to the wall, gun in hand, peered slowly around the corner.

Her head shifted slightly as she scanned the area ahead. Otherwise she was still.  
Two fingers lifted off the grip on her gun, and waved them forward, all without her looking back.

The barest of sounds were made as they crept closer. Din went to kneel beside her, hand on her hip, at her belt, letting her know of his presence.  
She gave him a nod, still not glancing back, and he tilted his head forward to get a look.

Nothing. There were no signs of life. Either way, the tracker would have caught them. What there was, were giant holes and rips through grates and walls. Dangerous ground. They would have to be careful.


	28. Surprise Reunion

The two mandalorians waved them forward. Tense, Corin huge the kid tight as they turned the corner.   
It was a mess. There were gaping holes everywhere, an entire section of the floor had caved in and dropped into darkness. At least two levels by the lack of light filtering through the shadows onto any floor beneath. It looked like a deadly game of walk the plank.  
Then Raga was moving. Slowly, lowering one foot at a time, head tilted, listening for possible creaks or groans, she set across to find a safe path. Any sound that seemed dangerous, she took her weight off and tried placing her foot in a different area.

It was only a short distance to the doors they needed to get through.  
Someone tapped his arm.  
He turned to face the silver helmet tilted at him. Then he noticed the cloak that was being offered to him. Confused, he reached out and took it, looking up with a small frown. Hi slips parted as he went to ask a question.  
“For the kid, you’ll need two arms to get across safely.”

Corin looked at the fabric. How could this make it any safer? He looked back up.  
With a deep sigh, the mandalorian reached out to grab the fabric back. Did he do something wrong? Then, he reached out, this time hesitating, helmet tilting back up to look at him. Why was he looking at him?  
He was reaching for the kid. Feeling a flash of panic, Corin forced himself to breathe deeply, and unclench his tense fingers from where they were clawing into the kids clothes, and handed them over.

Safely in the mandalorians arms, Corin glanced away, and over his shoulder. Leave-it was halfway through the path Raga had pointed out to follow.  
He was startled back around with another tap to his arm, the mandalorian reaching out with one hand, holding the cloak in an awkward looking grip.  
He paused, before slowly continuing to reach forward, stopping again just before he touched Corin’s shoulder.  
With a small frown, Corin just watched. What was he waiting for?

Another sigh, and a gloved hand draped the cloth over his shoulder, and reach out for his other one, lightly tugging at it. What was he doing? Corin went with the movement, which lead to him spinning in place. Then tugged on the cloth again, pushing it under his opposite arm. Corin grabbed it without thinking, and was turned around again. The mandalorian took the cloth, and leaned in, releasing the kid back into his arms. When he went to pull him close, a second hand pulled his arms back out, before grabbing the second end of the cloak, and tying them together in a tight knot.  
It was a sling. Corin’s eyes never left the visor, even as it was trained to its task, barely aware of movement in his peripheral.

The mandalorian wasn’t wearing his cloak. This was his cloak! He’d taken it off so Corin could use it as a sling for the kid.  
With a final tug, the silver figure stepped back, seeming strangely small without the extra cloth wrapped around his shoulders and throat. He picked up the rifle from where it was leaned against the wall, and gestured to behind Corin with a small shift.

“Your turn.”  
Omera had just finished the path, making it across and to the door.  
With a small stumble, barley there, Corin moved forward, tucking the kid into the make-shift sling as he went. The fabric was soft. Softer than he’d thought it would be.

He carefully moved forward, focus don Raga, and the gestures she made with her hand. When he went to put his foot down somewhere dangerous, she stopped him or pointed a direction out. With her help, he slowly made his way cross the small space, avoiding any potential falls or dangers, and safely getting the kid across.

He turned around, standing beside Raga, to watch as Din shouldered his rifle, and made his own way to them.

Stepping away, giving him room to stand on a safe spot, Coirn turned to the door Omera was working at opening. It still had power.  
She had a small tablet in her hand, plugged into scanner, and seemed to be hacking her way through the codes to open the door.

The door hissed open, and she jolted back.

Stepping back, he felt himself collide with a solid weight, just as he saw the forked end of a rifle swing up beside him, a hand coming down on his shoulder and holding fast, steadying him. The rifle powered up.  
Raga’s blaster appeared out the other side of his peripheral.

Leave-it and Omera were both pointing weapons into the room.

“I have opened the door for your convenience, I have access to the ship.”  
The robotic voice of IG-11 filtered out of the dim lit room. What?


	29. New Hope

The weight and heat of Corin at his front was distracting, at best.  
The voice of the droid coming form the room they had been trying to enter, was suspicious at the very least.  
Considering it had disappeared with Gideon? Even more suspicious.  
He tightened his grip on his rifle, holding it steady against his still sore ribs, being careful to not jostle his wound. His other hand remained steady on Corin’s shoulder. A comforting stabiliser.

Omera entered the room, ignoring Raga’s hiss to wait and Leave-it’s protestant noise. Looking back at him, Raga readied her blaster, and ducked through after her.  
Underneath his hand, he could feel Corin’s deep breath. He loosened his grip, just in time, as he stepped forward, glancing back over his shoulder at Din, and followed Leave-it into the dark unknown.

His helmet quickly filtered the light, adjusting to suit the darkness. He focussed immediately on the stiff, mechanical movement across the room.  
The red lights as its head swivelled to face them helped him aim his rifle.

“IG-11, w- how did you get here?” Omera asked. From what he could see of her back, she was still aiming her own weapon at the droid as well. Good.

“What do you mean, access to the ship?” Raga cut in before the thing could respond.

The whirring of its components as it turned its head back around to continue, whatever it was doing.  
“I continued on my way when the organism made itself known. As a droid, it showed no interest in me, and did not hinder my progress. I have since managed to get a radio frequency up and have made contact with the ship. I am remotely piloting another lander down, as we speak.”

Corin spoke up next.  
“Did you know, did you know where Gideon went? What he planned to do?”  
“I have not seen or heard from Gideon, since approximately two minutes and thirty four seconds after he followed me away from you when you hid. I do not know how he got past the organism, or what he did after he left.”

“Where did he go?”  
The droid’s head swivelled back to look at Omera as it answered.  
“I do not know. He said he needed to do something, and it is not a part of my programming to care for one individual over the needs of a group, so I continued here, to make contact with the ship.”

Din kept his rifle aimed at the droid, in a firm two handed grip, resting against his torso to take as much strain off his arms as possible.

Then Corin grunted, and a small thud sounded as he bent low.  
He turned around, arms empty, just as the kid raced in between his legs and towards Din. He stopped at his feet, looking up, claws gripping at the fabric just below his knee, hooked onto the loop around his calf he stored extra ammo for the rifle. He tilted his head.  
Corin came up in front of him, also pausing, with a small frown.

The child apparently got bored of no response, and Din hissed when he felt cows dig into his skin, as the kid gripped tight, and heaved itself up. It gripped tight to the cuisses on his thigh. It made quick work of jumping up and gripping onto his breastplate, hanging there with one hand, the other reaching futilely for his side. Whatever they were trying to achieve, their arms weren’t long enough. Suppressing a smile, even though no one could see it, he gently pried his claw away from his chest, and held the kid out for Corin to take, who did so quickly. Mindful of the rifle still held in one hand, the two men made sure not to touch or accidentally hit it against anyone, Din already having turned the safety on.

“Help, help I can. Help.”  
The kid kept calling out quietly, with a large pout, as Corin stepped away. Ignoring the tiny, out-stretched hands, Din gripped the weapon with two hands once more, just in time to notice the small audience behind Corin’s back.  
Yeah, he was very glad for the helm that was now covering his heated face.

He was a bit more glad that it hid how he smiled at the deep flush that covered Corin’s.

With a small cough, Omera turned back to continue speaking to the droid. The lander would be here in forty minutes. They only had to last another forty minutes, and they could be off this kriffing planet. There was just one problem.

“How do we know if the others will get here by then?”  
Omera’s mouth opened and closed, no answer coming forth against Leave-it’s question. Beside him, Raga’s arms were crossed over her chest, visor staring at the floor.

“What if we just comm them?” Corin asked, gaining everyone’s attention immediately.  
“A lot of our comms and radios were either cut off in the attack, or were used for noise to draw aliens away-“  
“But we have a whole radio room right here.”  
Corin cut Omera off.  
“Why couldn’t we just redirect one, or strengthen a wave, or do.. Something, that could let us make contact with them?”

“Theoretically,” the droid cut in, “it could be possible. Miss Dune still had her earpiece in the last I saw her.”

Raga looked up at the droid. Din felt a spark of hope in his chest. They might all survive this yet.  
“How long would it take to get a frequency up and running?”

The red light peered his direction. It felt like it was piercing right through him.  
“Minutes.”


	30. So Close

They had stayed hidden from the creatures so far. There had been a few close calls, but the last one Cara had managed to pull him inside a hiding place before he was spotted. It was his fault, he’d zoned out. A good way to get killed in a situation like this.  
“Come on Paz,” she grunted, heaving his weight on top of her once more, “Keep moving big guy.”

With a groan, biting his lip to contain any further noise, he stumbled to his feet as they got moving. Hauroko was already up ahead. Cara had given her the tracker after the last mishap, when she’d almost lost it to stop Paz falling through a loose grate. That one had brought about the attention fo three different creatures they’d been forced to hide from and sneak around, ignoring any of their bodies protests’. 

Since that time, there’d been at least three different close calls. They were all worn thing. All tiring quickly. They weren’t sure how far away they were from the radio room. At the moment they were focussed on trying to find another port to get information from. They’d almost reached the last one, but had been driven off by movement. Trying to out-wait it hadn’t worked. It had patrolled back and forth. They’d realised it was hearing the beeps after far too long, when it had climbed through a hole in the wall, and almost talked straight up to their hiding place, until Hauroko had turned off the tracker.

Since then, she’d torn a strip off her shirt, leaving her with only one sleeve, in order to wrap fabric around the thing, and muffle it.

Up ahead, she signalled for them to stop. Lurching to a halt, muffling any sounds of discomfort, Paz leaned against a wall, giving Cara a much-needed break from his weight, as they stared for any further signs from where Hauroko was peering around a corner. He forced himself to breath quietly, taking as slow, deep breaths as he could. Sharp pains, but that could be from the numerous bruising his torso had gone through. It didn’t necessarily mean something was broken.  
Beside him, Cara wasn’t faring much better. Almost as beaten as he was, with a limp to her step as well. If he could, he’d prefer to not ask her help walking. She was too hurt.

There weren’t many options available though.

With a wheeze, he rolled his way to a full standing position when Hauroko beckons the pair forward, feeling Cara come up and under his arms. Her strong grip on his forearm and wrist were the main thing keeping him grounded.

Then she dropped. He hands flew to her head as she was sent to a knee. Unbalanced, Paz felt himself give, could hear the thunderous crash that would results nd force them into hiding all over again.  
A small body slammed into him, cushioning him enough to muffle the sounds as his armour and weight crashed into Hauroko instead of the metal beneath his feet.

Wheezing below him, he rolled off her as soon as he could, propping himself against the wall once more as she curled up, trying to breath through the winding he’d just put her through. Grimacing in sympathy, he glanced over at Cara, worried at what had made her drop so quickly.

He hand was covering an ear, head tilted away from him. Her face was set in a frown, as if listening to something.

Eyebrows drawing together, he watched and waited for her to finish before saying anything, Hauroko dragging her way to join him against the wall.

They waited in tense silence for Cara to say something. Beside him, Hauroko kept her blaster proper on her thigh, head constantly scanning the environment. Paz himself, pulled his own blaster free, head lolling against the wall behind him as he searched for any sign to start shooting. With his depth of field all out of place, it wasn’t very effective. He tried to listen for any sounds that could be a warning. All he could really hear was a ringing in his ears. Too many gunshots and explosions that day.

Had it really only been a day?  
He felt himself frown as he thought about it. Surely not. It must have been at least two or three by then?  
But they haven’t slept, or even really needed to eat.  
So it’s can’t have even been two days since they set out in the lander to try find the colonists.  
It’s really only been that long?

Then a hand was pulling his face to look in front of him. A blur of colour solidified into his cy’are as she stroked his cheek with a thumb. The sweat was making the blood on her forehead drip down her face.  
She turned to look at Hauroko as well.  
“We need to get to the radio,” she whispered, mindful of making too loud a sound.  
“IG got there early, and is piloting the second lander down. It’ll be here in less than forty minutes.”

With a hiss, Paz used the arm Cara offered him, gripping onto her shoulder and hand, as they both stood up, pulling back and forth before they were on their feet.

He felt a steadying hand on his other shoulder as Hauroko held him, helping Cara as she ducked under his arm once more.  
They got moving. Running ahead of them quietly, s he peered back around the corner, and once she was sure it was clear, waved them forward. They turned into another corridor, just a big a mess as the rest have been. Hauroko kept an eye on the tracker, pulling it back out and holding it in front of her as she jogged ahead a short distance. Then she stopped.  
Why did she stop?  
Now she was working on something, scrabbling at the wall. What was she doing?  
They caught up with her.  
They’d stumbled onto another port, without realising it. Sagging in relief, once more against the walls s Cara propped him up and joined him to catch her breath, the pair watched Hauroko work, waiting for her to tell them how far they had left to go.

Cara grabbed her gun off her, and pushed herself so her back was to the wall and she could scan all around the trio. Paz just tried to keep his legs under him.

Something beeped. Hauroko hissed out a grin. She turned to look at them, a bright look in her eyes. Hope.  
Then her face dropped. Her eyes weren’t focuses don either of them. Instead, they were looking down the corridor, behind Paz.  
With a lot of effort, he turned himself over, and froze. 

It wasn’t looking their way. It was standing, still as a statue- not, that wasn’t right, it was moving. It was going too slow to properly track its movement, stalking across the corridor, toward a gap in the other wall. Paz could feel his chest constrict, his breathing tried to pick up. He forced himself to tilt his head back, and breath through his mouth. Long, deep, and slow. As little noise as possible. They couldn’t draw its attention. They just had to wait for it to go, then they could get moving.

It snarled, hissing its in-organic sound as it slowly, ever so slowly, crept forward.

Above them, Paz heard the creak of metal. The soft thudding, the sounds of something moving.  
Clenching his jaw, he snarled in silence as he forced himself up, pushing himself onto his feet with a hands s slowly as he could. He swallowed down the sounds that desperately tried to escape, and turned his back on the creatures behind him. His skin crawled. He felt an itch in the centre of his back, on his neck, everywhere he now felt exposed.

He forced himself to push at Cara. Pushing her forward, trying to get the three of them moving. He refused to look back. He ignored the scene as it played out in his head. The picture of a barbed tail, the pain as it ripped through his chests praying the two women with blood. Hauroko, getting the idea, quickly unplugged from the port, stepping away lightly, and then stepping forward to come up under his arm, taking Cara’s place as his balance.  
She kept twisting, glancing behind them, and above. Fearful of attacks she maybe wouldn’t see coming.

She kept the tracker off. No point having it on, and risking the creatures hearing it, as close as they were, and flying at them for an attack. They wouldn’t be able to fend them off. Not in this state. Not with all of them making it out of a confrontation alive.

It wasn’t far ahead before there was another corner.  
They just had to get around that corner. Mere metres in front of them. Then they’d eb out of sight, and could try wait for the things to leave.

Hauroko twisted to look behind them again. Under his arm, she felt solid as a rock, completely tense. Cara was just ahead, moving slowly, pushing off the wall every now and then to right herself.  
Just, get around the corner, decide what to do from there. They were almost there. It was right there. Cara’s hand was almost at it now.

A snarl stopped them in their tracks.  
The hair on the back of his neck, stood straight up as something lazily twisted through the air beside him. Cara looked back at him, eyes meeting, just as everything burst into action.


	31. Tension

Corin was focussed on the kid. They’d been struggling to wiggle out of his arms, trying to reach out and chase after the mandalorian, ever since they’d climbed up him earlier. He wasn’t sure why.  
He adjusted his grip for the third time in as many seconds, face twisting a bit as he struggled to reign in the determined child.

Across the room, the mandalorian was speaking lowly in his unknown language, conversing quietly with Raga as the droid sent out a message to the others. They had decided to wait for them here, or until they received a message back. Judging from the tension in the room, Corin sincerely hoped for the latter, and soon. Everyone was tense, wanting them to be okay.  
Aside from the quiet murmuring between the two Mando’s, the compound was eerily quiet. It was unnerving. It had Corin on high alert.  
It felt like bad luck waiting to pounce. The calm before the storm. He just hoped they would survive long enough to get up and off this forsaken planet.

A beep raised the tension to a palpable presence.  
The kid was no longer squirming in his arms, now just as drawn to that sound as everyone else in the room, staring in the direction of Raga as she stared down at her vambrace. The mandalorian’s head was also tilted down, rigid and unmoving as she checked what was happening.

You could have heard a pin drop. Corin was sure Leave-it, only a few steps away, would surely be able to hear his heart as it pounded aggressively against his chest. He forced himself to breathe slowly, face tense and frozen as he waited for someone to say something.

Even the droid was frozen, camera’s turned and concentrated on Raga, from where IG was still sat in front of a monitor, hooked into the system, next to Omera.

Just as it looked like Raga relaxed, shoulders dropping the tiniest bit, another beep had them drawn and raised, head whipping back down to look at her forearm.  
Beside her, the mandalorians hand was resting firmly against his hip, on his blaster, finger twitching lightly against the holster. Compare to the stillness of the rest of him, the tiny movement was quick to draw Corin’s attention.  
He still looked odd without his cape, still tied around Corins chest. With a small frown, finally remembering it was there, Corin took the opportunity to slowly wrap the kid back in it, now that they’d stopped struggling to jump away.  
Beside him, Leave-it flinched at the movement. Catching eyes, Corin winced in apology, before continuing.

Another beep. This one was closer to the last than the previous had been to the first. Another beep. Another.  
Eyes straining, trained firmly on the red light now blinking furiously against Raga’s grey armour, illuminating the red stripes more clearly, Corin felt his face twist into a light grimace. That sounded like the tracker.

She started to turn slowly in short circles, but the beeping didn’t seem to fade or get any stronger.  
Until it seemed to slow, just a fraction. Corin remembered to breathe in, releasing the air he’d been holding in his lungs. Then froze when the sound increased in frequency. She turned back toward the door they’d come through. It got faster. Faster.  
She flicked something, and the noise abruptly cut off, the last sound seeming to echo through the air, ringing in his ears against the deafening quiet.

Then he heard the thudding of footsteps, light, barely there, but still noticeable when you listened for it.

His arms wrapped around the kid. He wasn’t sure who it was supposed to comfort.

Was that a snarl? A hiss? Beyond the door, there were small sounds, shuffling, steps, and even the creaking of metal. Was it open? Did they close it? Corin really hoped they’d closed it, but it felt like bad luck was laughing at them.

There was a. Deafening screech, not of the organism, of metal. The sound of metal dragging on metal, of it bending and twisting, snapping and falling. The sound of the creature joined, the inhuman scream echoing in a bone grating harmony with the ear shattering sounds of metal collapsing in on itself. It must have stepped on a bad spot.

The boom and crash as the sounds finally stopped, ringing through his ears. Did he feel a tremor? Did he actually see the room shake, lights of the monitors and radios seeming to bounce, or was that all in his head? He wasn’t sure how long he’d been awake, all he knew was that it was longer than recommended. It wouldn’t be a surprise if he was seeing things.

No other sounds.

Across the room, a red light lit back up on Raga’s arm. No more beeping. Shoulders sagging, ignoring the tremble wracking through his chest, Corin released the breath he’d been holding. He forced himself to slow his breathing. In, and out. In. Out. Breathe. Push it aside, and deal with it later.

Breathe.

Then a high pitched static burst pierced through the air. Everyone jumped. Corin back hit the wall, and he winced at the pain he felt. Definitely had bruises there.

Around the room, people half pulled out, or aimed weapons back in the direction of Omera and IG. The droid was fiddling with something, now focussed back in on the monitor. The sound cut off as quickly as it began. Corin ignored his heavy breathing, thumb stroking the kids back as he tried to calm it down from its whimpers.

“What was that?” The mandalorian asked, voice aggressive, seeming deafening against the previous lack of talking in the room.

“We have received an outside transmission, it appears the others are in trouble.”


	32. Argument

Raga exploded into action beside him, stalking up to the droid, anger and frustration in her every step.  
“What do you mean they need help!”  
It wasn’t even a question, too frantic to properly sound like one.

Omera stepped forward, hands in front of her in an attempt to placate the upset woman.

“Wait- Raga, we don’t know what’s happening yet, just- wait Raga Stop! You can’t go out after them without a plan!”  
She whirled around against the pull Omera had on her elbow, helm getting far too close to Omeras face for comfort, voice dangerous.  
“The kriffing hell I can’t,” she spat.

“We can’t just, Not, go and help them.”  
Behind him, Leave-it spoke up against the far wall, next to Corin.

“We also can’t just-“  
“-Everyone Quiet!”  
In a partially raised voice, but desperate enough to be heard, Corin’s words, and tone, was enough to cut through the chaos.

Din could see Raga go to attack him verbally next.  
“We have to be quiet, or we’re gonna draw this Things straight to us,” he hissed out before she got the chance, glaring at the three that had started to raise their voices. Suddenly, as if a cold bucket of water had been thrown at them, everyone seemed to snap back to reality, and realise the danger they were still in. Silence reigned in the room once more, as if everyone was listening for any signs the creatures were coming back. Raga checked her tracker. Safe, for now.

Through the visor, he made eye contact with Corin, nodding in appreciation. He’d cut them off early enough to stave off rash decisions, or too much noise.

Still have a glaring contest with Omera, Raga bristled.  
“We can’t just leave them.”  
Her voice cracked, thick with emotion and fear.   
“We won’t,” Corin once again had his attention as he straightened, arms still hugging the child through the sling. Made out of his cape. It, was a good look on him.

“We can send a small team to help can’t we-“  
Omera cut him off again, sounding just as frustration s they all seemed to feel.  
“We can’t, most of our radios-“  
Corin stopped her before she had to break into another explanation.

“We could use the frequencies of the compound, take some of their gear. They’d have emergency radios for individual use wouldn’t they?” The question he directed at the droid, who agreed.

“So we use their radios, we send a small group, no more than one or two, the rest stay here with IG and wait for the lander, and we all get off this kriffing planet, together.”

Din resolutely ignored the slightly odd feeling in his chest at the determination in Corins blue eyes. Or the mimicked expression on the child’s small green face as they went from watching Corin’s expression, to turning and echoing it to the group. He was definitely not happy his helmet hid the soft smile on his face watching it. It felt like the kid could still feel it when their eyes seemed to stare straight into his own.

“But how do we decide who’s going?” Leave-it asked quietly.

With a sigh, Corin glanced at Omera, brow furrowing, eyes the turning to look over everyone.  
“It’ll have to be me - Wait, let me explain.”  
He cut Raga and Leave-it off before they could try interrupt or start an argument.

“I’m the one with the least emotional ties, the one less likely to be rash and drop everything to save them,” he kept his voice gentle, eyes flicking between the two as Leave-it scowled and Raga stared at the floor, arms crossed.  
“I can find them and bring them back, but we can’t send someone who’s emotions will be that heavily affected by any danger they might be in.”

Raga shuffled, head turning to stare at a section of floor a bit further away from Corin’s direction. Even Leave-it’s head dropped a bit, shame-faced, bot no doubt remembering the scene they’d made barely minutes ago.  
“You can’t go alone.”  
Raga looked up at him.  
“We can’t send you, to go alone. Not when there could be those, those- things! Anywhere between us and them.”

It looked like Omera went to say something out of the corner of Din’s eyes, still wholly trained on Corin’s as he seemed to mull over Raga’s words. He quickly turned his attention to her though, stopping her before she could say anything.

“No Omera, I won’t take you-“ he continued even as she tried to talk over him.  
“You’re here as a civilian. This will be a rescue mission, into hostile territory,” his grip tightened on the kid, “I will not take you into this, not when you’ve already been in far too much danger already.”

“I’ll go.”  
Din finally spoke up, the last one left in the room. Corin looked back at him, face settling into a grim kind of acceptance. Then nodded. Looks like they were going to rescue his brother.


	33. Fear

Paz screamed. He couldn’t feel any of his wounds or prior soreness. He only felt rage. Blaster in each hand, his and Cara’s, he fired, over, and over again, as the bastards tried to claw their way through the door Hauroko was desperately trying to keep closed, toppling and dragging different things to stack behind it. Pushing against them, she was slowly closing the gap, inch by precious inch.   
With the weight in front of him, as it fell, he went with it, dropping, continuing to fire.  
He ignored the blurriness of his vision, the heat of his face, the wet running down his cheeks.  
He tried desperately to ignore the pounding fear gripping his chest tight, at the weakly breathing Cara barley propped against his chest, head lolling uselessly against his shoulder.

Finally, the door shut with an anticlimactic click. The pounding against it was almost unnoticeable when all of his focus was immediately on the woman in his arms, blasters clattering to the floor at his feet.  
Tears, sweat and blood dripped from the tip of his nose as the mix ran down his face, falling onto her own grimy, but placid expression. She was unconscious, had been for almost a minute now.

Biting his lip, desperately trying not to scream again, his hand brushed her cheek, tilting her forward into a kov’nyn, eyes clenching shut as more liquid spilled form his eyes. When he spoke, his voice cracked and quaked with emotion.  
“You hold on, hear me-“ he pulled back, staring helplessly at her calmed face, framed by one hand on her cheek.  
“You don’t get to die.”  
His voice cracked, the possibility too much for him to fully comprehend. He’d seen death, experienced family, brother in arms, and more, die.

He wasn’t sure he, or Raga, would be able to come back from this.

He almost snapped, lips lifting in a snarl, at a light touch on his shoulder. Hauroko backed away a step, hands raising slightly. Her own red rimmed eyes stared into his own, before he looked back down at his cy’arika’s face, thumb brushing over the skin under her eye, over her small tattoo.  
A sob wracked through him, twisting in his chest as his face contorted, fingers curling into a fist against her skin, gathering a handful of her hair as his head fell against her jaw.

“Paz,” Hauroko’s voice was shaky, just as emotional as he felt.  
“Paz we have to get moving.”

He clutched Cara tighter to his chest, desperate for her to just open her eyes, get up, tell him to get up big guy, there’s work to do.  
She was so still in his arms.

“Paz.”  
Another touch to his shoulder, this one harsher, gripping and giving it a shove, drawing his attention as Hauroko kneeled in front of him.  
“We have to get moving.”

His mouth opened, but no words came out. He glanced back down at Cara’s face, pain flashing through him when there was till no change. Was her breathing getting shallower? She looked paler.

“Paz!”  
His eyes caught Hauroko’s once more, her hand still grounding him, gripping his shoulder tightly.  
“We have to get going. We have to get somewhere safe, find the others.”

“I- I can’t, I won’t leave her.”  
He face softened, as did her words.   
“I’m not asking you too.”

Breathing heavily, he clutched tightly at the woman in his arms, feeling himself verge on the edge of breaking. He forced himself to stop, take deep breaths, and push through. He ignored the new wave of tears that broke through, rolling down his face. She wasn’t telling him to leave her behind. Cara wasn’t dead yet. They could still get her out of here.   
Breaths hitching, he forced his body to move, nodding, before bracing against the wall behind him as he pushed himself up.  
He grit his teeth against the pain that shot through him, pulling Cara close, one of his arms slipping beneath her knees, drawing him up to his chest as he stood.

He could feel the tension in his face, twisted in a grimace against the pain ricocheting through his body. He pushed through. He wasn’t leaving her behind.

Hauroko had already picked up the two blasters, holstered as best she could with the limited options available on her person.

She moved quickly, searching through the room. It was hard to see far. The small area they’d been in was illuminated by lights and electricity on a panel beside the door. The rest of the room was dimly lit. It seemed to stretch far enough the light didn’t fully reach all the way. Not that it was incredibly bright to begin with.

She hissed at him. Seems she’d found a possible exit.  
With a groan, he stumbled over, bracing against the added weight in front of his torso.

She was crouched in front of a vent, ear pressed to the grate, listening for any possible sounds of an ambush. The last thing they needed was another one of those.

Paz could still feel the sting and sticky mess of blood on his back and leg from the last one. He held the worst of the damage in his arms.  
Breathe, push past, get her to the others or to medical supplies. Freak out later.

Looking up at him, she nodded, before slowly, hesitantly, opening the gap. Flinching back, the two tensed in preparation for an attack that never came. Letting out a breath, forcing himself past the hitch in his breath, Paz fell heavily to his knee beside her, more concerned with keeping Cara as still and un-jostled as possible, then with not causing himself any more pain or creating more bruises.

They shared another look, before she crawled her way in. Taking a deep breath, he carefully, with the help of her two hands reaching out fo the darkness, slid Cara forward into the entry. Hearing the two drag down and to the side, he made his own way in, wincing against the bruises he discovered and re-discovered along the way.

They just had to hope the others would find them. They had to hope their message had made it through to them.   
They had to hope they could track them, as they made their way slowly, toward the radio room, and closer to surviving this hell of a planet.


	34. Preparation

Corin and the mandalorian set out as soon as they could. They raided the radios, IG reworking them to fit the same frequency they’d sent and received messages between themselves and the others. Just in case they heard back from them.

Corin raided the emergency first aid kit he’d been able to find. He took everything he could carry. He’d put the kid up to sit on a table, and had use the sling to carry further Bacta patches and bandages. He didn’t know what kind of trouble the others were in, but with the bad luck being thrown their way, he could only imagine what they could be facing. It never hurt to be too careful.  
Omera was talking softly to the kid. Slowly, they seemed to be warming up to her, over the few minutes it was taking them to prepare. They kept getting distracted though, trying to climb down and make their way over to the mandalorian, pouting and grumbling every time someone picked them back up.

Corin was a bit confused over the kids attention on the man, when they didn’t seem all that concerned about Raga, the other Mando of the group.

He grabbed the radios from IG, listening as the droid went over the basic uses. The droid rewired them in the few minutes they’d taken to prepare themselves, connecting them to headsets they could use to keep noise at a minimum.  
IG warned Corin about the time. Less than twenty minutes before the lander would be here. If they weren’t back, the droid would send them the location it would land the ship at.  
They would wait as long as they could, but it was programmed to prioritise the safety of civilians over soldiers.  
Grim, Corin affirmed his understanding.   
Turning back around, several things happened simultaneously. Omera let out a little cry, the kid having disappeared from the bench when she’d taken her eyes off it for a moment, and Din grunted as the kid jumped back up at him, knees buckling and hitting the floor when the kid slammed their hand into his wound. One of their hands gripped and ripped at the bandage Corin could see through the gap in his shirt, while the other went straight to the still quite bloody looking wound.  
Then the mandalorian stood back up, straightening slowly, head tilting as he stared down at the kid, who was glaring up at him with narrowed eyes.

His hand went up to his side, pulling at his shirt, his other tugging at the bandage. He dragged the fabric along where the wound would be, and Corin winced, expecting him to buckle or fall, or something.  
Walking closer, brow furrowing, he realised the mandalorian had been wiping the blood away, pulling the bandage loose, from skin.  
With shock, he realised that where the hole had been stitched up, but still oozing blood while the batch worked, was now healed.

“What the-“ he muttered quietly, not quite realising he was talking out loud as he stopped right in front of the man, the kid between the two, head swivelling to glance between them. Everyone in the room seemed to still at the scene, as if no one was sure how to process what was happening.  
They didn’t have time to try.  
Almost at the same time, he and the Mando spoke up that it was time they should get going.  
There was no time to waste pondering the kids apparent magical abilities. They could freak out over the implications later, off planet.

Raga walked over to them just as they finished prepping to go. About fifteen minutes to get to the others and start getting them back.

“Here,” she thrust something at him, the mandalorian still making final checks on his rifle.  
He turned the device over in his hand, looking at it, before staring up at her, questioning.

“It’s a tracker, for-“ her voice wavered slightly.  
“Anyway, you can use it, to find them, and bring them back.”

With a nod, she walked away, fists clenched at her side. Corin caught Leave-it’s eyes as he followed her path. He had a pained expression on his face. Corin remembered that he, Kieran and Hauroko and all transferred from the same squad. He understood not wanting to lose everyone.  
He tried to affirm him with a nod, and hoped it was enough. There was no time for anything else, as the mandalorian finished his final checks, Omera kept a firm grip on the kid as it squirmed and gave small cries trying to reach to him, and they left. Behind him, Corin could hear it as the kid spoke once more.  
“Monsters, monsters, monsters-“ like a small fearful chant, it echoed in his ears, long after the door closed behind them.


	35. Right There

They moved quietly, Din taking lead with his rifle. He kept it pointed low, stooped himself, light on his feet, only raising it as they passed crevices and possible ambush points, raising it in case of attacks around each corner. Behind him, Corin muttered low directions as he watched the tracker, also watching his back.

So far, so good. There hadn’t been any sign of the creatures. Din could only hope that would continue. That the one that had shown up outside the radio room had been a fluke.

He hoped that they weren’t on the others’ tail.

Sudden beeping from behind him had his rifle whipping around, straight toward Corin’s guilty face as he also jumped back in tandem with Din, hands raising slightly.  
“Sorry,” he winced, talking lowly.  
“The tracker in his hand blinked. He must have muted it as soon as the beeping had started.  
Letting out a breath, Din lowered his gun, turning back around.

Corin came up to his shoulder.  
“Says we’re close, just up ahead and to the left.”

With a nod, he gripped his rifle, and moved forward, Corin falling back into step behind him, letting him take point. He moved a bit slower, making sure very step he took was as light as possible. He didn’t want to risk making nay noise now, not when they were so close. Not when they didn’t know what was waiting for them up ahead.

Just to the left.  
He turned, raising his gun to aim into a gaping hole in the wall. His helm filtered through the lack of light, searching for movement or heat. Nothing, but definitely something to watch out for.   
Just ahead, to the left.

There was a corner. The hall they were in ended, splitting off to the left and right in a T intersection.  
His fingers flexed on his weapon as he stalked forward, still making sure to sweep side to side, not fixating on the corner they were about to turn. Check, left, right, up, down, give the technology in his gear time to filter for movement and heat. It wasn’t too effective, not with the material the compound was made out of, but it would still give him a bit of warning before anything could attack from one of the many holes and rips through the walls, ceiling and floors.  
So far, so good.

One, step, two step. Corin echoing his soft footsteps behind him. He paused before the corner, tilting his head, listening. He tried to listen for movement, hissing, snarling. Anything that could indicate something hostile was waiting for them.

Steeping away from the wall, he raised his rifle, before slowly leaning around the corner to check.  
Nothing.  
He whipped around, the hair on the back of his neck pricking.  
Nothing that way either.

Releasing another breath, but still not fully lowering his gun, keeping it up near his chest, he faced back behind him.  
To the left.

A few short metres, and there was a door, on the other side of the corridor. He glanced back at Corin, who seemed to be doing a visual sweep of the area behind him, before tilting his head toward that closed entry.

He checked the tracker, the light blinking quickly, scanning it this way and that, before taking a few steps forward, past Din and toward the door. He looks dup at it, back at Din, and nodded, putting the tracker away, and gripping his blaster two handed.

Din felt a tension in his chest. They were right there. They’d found them, but in what state?  
Breathing, ignoring the way it rattled through his lungs, he walked forward. Corin lined up to the side of it as he stood in front, taking one hand off his blaster to put on the handle.  
He adjusted his grip, raising his rifle once more. They didn’t know what was waiting for them through that door. They needed to take every precaution available.

Sharing a nod, Corin twisted the handle, it going easily. Not locked. Then pushed it open, Immediately backing away as Din took a step forward and into the darkness.

His helm filtered through the shadows immediately, torch on the side also flicking on, and he swept through the room, finger twitching lightly against the side of the trigger in preparation. Nothing lunged out, nothing hissed, snarled or screeched.  
Nothing moved at all, and Din felt his stomach drop.  
He forced himself to follow through the sweep. Nothing visually, so he stepped further in, Corin following behind, but staying closer to the door, and the low light that filled in from the corridor.  
Nothing. It was a fairly small room, only truly having distance lengthwise. The doorway across form him was completely blocked, but cabinets, a table, some metal containers. There was blood on the wall beside him, as if someone had fallen down in, dragged themselves a short distance, and used it to stand back up again.   
The bloody imprints of boots, the blood slowly fading, until disappearing, heading toward the door they’d just come through.

He let out a hard breath. They weren’t here. Why weren’t they here?

Against the wall, he saw the reflection of red, as a light blinked behind him. Corin had pulled out the tracker. Out of the corner of his eyes, in the mess against the door, he saw a corresponding light.  
They’d missed them. They were here, and they’d missed them.

A soft touch against his elbow, and he turned to look into Corin’s eyes, not quite focussed on his visor, as Corins struggled to properly concentrate in the darker light.  
“We’ll find them,” he said, touch turning into a light grip on Din’s arm.  
“We won’t leave them behind. We’ll find them.”


	36. Panic

Corin breathed out a sigh in relief when the mandalorian gave a jerky nod, hand coming up to clasp the elbow of the arm imitating contact.  
He ignored the feeling in his stomach the touch gave him, pushing past it to focus on the problem at hand. How did they track down the others? The ping for help was only sent out maybe ten minutes earlier. They couldn’t have gotten far in that time, especially not together. Not if the blood and mess around them that he could dimly make out, was any indication.  
Feeling a minute tremble, he wasn’t sure which one of them it was coming from, possibly both, he went to let go of the mandalorians elbow. Loosening his grip, he realised he hadn’t released his own iron clad grip. Hesitantly, Corin reached out, giving a light tug on his sleeve, and gently walked back, stepping away and leading him back out the way they came, leaving the blinking red light behind.  
The tight grip on his own elbow never let up, until they were a few steps back out into the corridor.

The mandalorian seemed to snap out of it, shaking his head violently as he jerked to a stop, hand abruptly unclasping from its vice grip. Taking a step back, Corin gave him a moment to collect himself.  
He was breathing harshly, it causing minor static through his modulator, visor staring through the ground, one hand rising up to his helmet. Then he seemed to slow, forcing deeper breaths, fingers flexing against the cool beskar, before he finally looked up to meet Corins concerned gaze, shuffling a bit on the spot.  
His head ducked a bit, before he met his eyes again.  
“Thanks,” he sounded awkward, embarrased, as he threw his head in the direction of the door, “uh, for that..”  
He trailed off uncertainly so he blurted out, “Corin.”

The helmet tilted as he looked up at him again. Now it was Corin’s turn to feel embarrassed, hand coming up to rub on the back of his neck.  
“Sorry, just, wasn’t sure you knew my name.”  
He gave the mandalorian a crooked smile, well aware of the rising heat in his cheeks.

There was a moment of silence where Corin contemplated his ineptitude.

“Din.”  
He glanced up with a frown, not understanding what was being said.“Sorry, come again?”  
He cleared his throat.“My name, it’s Din.”

With a small amount of surprise, and heavily ignoring the warmth spreading through his chest, he smiled back at him.  
“Well, let’s get moving then Din. We’ve got some friends to save.”


	37. Reunited

Gasping, a sob ripping through his chest, Paz cradled Cara to his chest, clinging to her desperately. He was getting too weak, stumbling and falling into the wall. He couldn’t keep carrying her, but he couldn’t leave her behind.  
They’d had to stop, barley a hundred metres from the room they’d blocked the organisms at. It wasn’t far enough. He couldn’t carry her. He could barley stand, his vision too blurry to shoot. He was useless. Her breath was getting shallower, face growing paler, until she almost looked like a ghost in his hands.

He looked up at Hauroko, meeting her gaze as she glanced back from her position in front of the entrance to their hidey hole.  
It was small, cramped. Even pressed against opposite walls, their legs were basically tangled up together, Cara essentially curled up on his lap, feet still dragging against Hauroko’s calves.  
He couldn’t focus properly. Couldn’t fully understand the mess of colours in front of him. He was only partly sure he was meeting her gaze. He wasn’t sure if it was the sweat and blood dripping into his eyes, tears, exhaustion, or a combination of all three.

He curled protectively around the body in his arms, wishing desperately the strength in her arms would grip him back. Wishing he would hear her take a deep breath, cough, push against him, and tell him…. anything.  
He just needed to hear her say anything.

Then they heard something.

Movement, most likely Hauroko readying her blaster. There was nothing he could do. Nothing but sit and wait.  
A few minutes passed.  
Then, footsteps.

Two sets from the sound of it, soft, barely audible.  
Paz tried to force himself to breathe softly, pushing past blinding pain, trying to make sure that Hauroko had the best chance to listen in case they were attacked.   
Closer, closer.

Movement against his legs as his companion shifted in place.

Closer.

“-must be close.”  
Wait.  
His eyes opened. When did they close?  
He knew that voice. He, he knew that voice.

“Who knows in what state.”  
Din, that was Dins’ voice.   
The other one, that was Corins’!

Hauroko knocked softly against the wall. The footsteps stopped.  
“Did you-“  
“-hear that?”  
Two voices, talking at once.  
It was real. It wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t a hallucination.   
A hysterical, breathless laugh ripped out of his chest, sounding half like a sob as Hauroko banged against the wall, harder this time, just as tired as he was, too exhausted and dehydrated to try call out for them until they were closer.

The talking, and the footsteps moved closer. She banged again. They sped up until they were right outside. Then, Hauroko starting to open the wrecked panel, it was suddenly ripped away. The dim light outside, even blocked by two blurred shadows, caused Paz to grimace against it. His arms curled tightly around his cy’are’s still body.  
Help was here. The others were here, they’d found them. They’d be alright.

He didn’t realise he was mumbling, half delirious, until he realised he was being tugged out of the hiding place, Cara already gone from his arms, and under a swearing Corin’s care.  
His brother tugged him forward, strong grip anchoring him to reality, before bringing him forward into a quick, desperate kov’nyn.

“You’re okay Paz, you hear me,” his voice seemed to swim at him, as if coming from a distance, echoing in his head.“You’re okay, we got you. We got you.”

He was pushed back to lean against a wall.   
When did Din have time to pull his chest piece off, he wondered, a bit stupidly, as he stared at the gloved hands applying bacta and bandages to the wounds and bruising across his torso.  
For that matter, when did his shirt get rolled up?  
He frowned down at the scene as it was rolled back down. A hand grabbed his chin.  
When did Din grab a canteen?

He swallowed. Wait, what got put in his mouth?  
Water followed quickly, and he felt himself snap out of his daze as he gulped down the cool liquid. He gasped when it was pulled away, head shaking side to side to clear his head, even as he felt the blurriness in his vision dispute a bit. The exhaustion crept back, leaving him with a clearer head as he clasped at Dins shoulder, pulled into another kov’nyn with his brother as he spoke.

“We’ve got you Paz. We have some supplies here, we can treat Cara enough to move her, but we won’t be able to support you too. We need to get to the lander.”

The lander blew up, didn’t it. He didn’t realise he was still talking out loud until Din responded.  
“The droid got a connection with a new one, it’s piloting it down as we speak. I’ve already sent the group a message, we’re waiting for co-ordinates to the landing spot now.”

He looked to his side, head clearing with every passing second. Hauroko was propped up, also starting to look more bright-eyed and awake, sipping on a canteen and ripping apart a ration bar.  
The canteen Din was holding was pushed into his hand. Another bar was put into his other.  
“Eat, drink. You’ll need as much energy as you can get. The amphetamine can only do so much.”  
Then Din was gone, moving over to kneel beside Corin, where he was still working on Cara.  
Absentmindedly, he started to chew.


	38. Return

Crouched down, Din wordlessly took over the role of assistant, handing Corin the things he needed or asked for, taking away and removing from Corin’s space anything he didn’t.

She wasn’t looking good. He breathing was shallow, a large wound barley held together by her kevlar still bleeding sluggishly through the now torn off tourniquet.  
Corin was in the middle of stitching the wound as Din removed the dirtied cleaning supplies away.  
He pulled out fresh bacta, laying it out beside Corin, in easy reach.

Hauroko and Paz were both eating and drinking, resting and regaining their energy.  
She also had her blaster in her spare hand, eyes darting the environment, constantly searching for any danger. Out of the three, she’d been the better off, bruised and more than likely had a break somewhere, but the least critical lacerations out of the trio.

With a sigh, he focussed back on the work Corin was doing.  
The wound was stitched, and he was applying a heavy layer of spray, trying to reach over everything he could, before applying the bacta bandages. His hands were shaking a bit, arms covered with blood up to his elbows, starting to soak into the sleeves that had been rolled up, off his forearms.  
Din reached out, hesitating a moment, before laying a hand on Corin’s red-covered arm.  
“How’s she looking?”   
He kept his voice down, not wanting to risk the others hearing, in case it was really as bad as it looked.

Corins head dropped, and Din’s stomach followed.  
“Not good, I don’t-“ he broke off, his other hand going up to his mouth, lips pressing against the back of it as his eyes watered a bit.  
“I don’t know if I can help her, I don’t- I’m not trained for this.”  
His voice broke, catching on different words, before a sharp breath shot out of him, and he drew in a deep breath.

Din opened his mouth, and closed it again. His brain stalled, unsure what to say. His hand moved, gripping Corin’s shoulder instead while he took a moment to collect himself with several large breaths.  
Then he heard a noise behind him, a questioning bass, sounded like Paz.

With a small frown, he turned. Blinked. Blinked again.

A chirp had Corin twisting under his hand, and a grip made its way onto Din’s elbow. He looked back at his face. It was just as confused, just as shocked, as his own surely must be under the beskar.  
He glanced back at the small green child, as it crouched down beside Paz’s bulk, and promptly leaped up onto his lap, forcing him to drop his ration bar to catch him, expression honestly priceless.  
Din was stills tuck on the fact the kid was here. Not with the others. Here. With them. Outside the room. With them. Here.  
Not with the others. The others.  
With a jolt, he shoved away from the ground, hand rising to his helm, flicking on the radio connection they had with the others.  
“Omera, Omera! Do you copy?”  
His heart was in his throat at the static that answered, his shoulders rising against the increasing tension in his body.

“Raga-“ Paz’s head twisted sharply his way, “Leave-it! Does anyone copy?”

Static. Nothing.  
He felt his breathing speed up. He darted forward, picking the kid up, turning it around in his hands as he searched it for any signs of blood or injuries.

A sharp crack and whistle.“-in… Din -re you there?”

Sighing heavily, snarling slightly, he responded.

“Oh thank maker, Din, the kid, it’s-“  
“Here,” he cut Raga off.  
“The kid’s here, they must have followed us somehow.”

He heard her sigh heavily, sending a burst of static through the connection. Then her voice changed, tone desperate.  
“Din, the others, Did-“  
“Safe. We found them.”

The connection broke again, in the middle of what might have been a sob. Beside him, Paz was forward, slowly rising from his seated position, on one knee.  
The kid squirmed in his grip, to make sure he didn’t drop them, he put them on the floor. They ran behind him, toward Corin.

“All of them?”  
He looked back at Cara, still lying prone in front of Corin, and hesitated for a split moment.  
“They’re all here.”

Definitely a sob. He grimaced a bit, glad his helmet hid his face, doubting if it was really the right choice to not tell her about Cara’s precarious position. Then Omera took over the radio.  
She told him the lander’s co-ordinates. He checked his locator. Roughly ten minutes from their current position. It’d be there in five, the others would be at it within ten minutes after that.  
They should get there with minutes to spare, even if they took a few to rest first.

“Copy that.”  
The radio cut off, communications done.

A hand grabbed his elbow, and he looked down into Paz’s eyes. He didn’t think he’d ever see them again. He’s not sure he ever wanted to.

“Raga?”  
He swallowed thickly, pushing past the guilt he was still feeling about lying to her.  
“She’s okay, she’s with the others. They’ll meet us at the lander.”

He hesitated, before turning to Hauroko.  
“Leave-it too.”

Then he moved, heading back toward Corin. Only to spring into faster action when the kid leaped around Corin, and straight toward Cara’s still exposed side, not wrapped in bandages yet.  
Corin gave a strangled yelp as he also tried to turn and grab the kid, falling on his side in an attempt to not land on his patient, and ultimately failing to stop the kid before they reached a hand out to her wound.  
Wait. It slammed into him. He could see the exact thing happen mere milliseconds later as Corin’s eyes widened, and he scrambled to sit up and watch.

The wound glowed slightly, and he heard noises form the two behind him as it drew their attention.  
The kid gave a little grunt, and Din watched in awe, as the skin under the child’s hand drew together tighter, and tighter, winding through the stitches, and closing over into a pale, thick scar.  
Even shocked, Corin dove forward to catch the kid when it stumbled back, apparently exhausted, big eyes blinking sluggishly up at his face.

Din stepped forward carefully, kneeling down beside Cara’s head. Movement. A flicker behind her eyelids. He met Corin’s gaze for a split second.

“What’s happening?”  
Paz’s voice behind him drew his attention away, then she shot up, a hand grabbing a fistful of Din’s sleeve, other hand flailing down toward her belt. Likely for her weapon.

He pinned her shoulder, pushing her back down quickly.  
“Cara,” Paz’s broken whisper reached him, barley before he did, sliding down roughly on one knee in the spot Din vacated, pulling Cara’s grip away from his clothes’ and stepping away.  
He looked at the child, looking half-asleep in Corin’s arms, as he tucked them back into the sling still around his chest.

He looked back at the couple in front of him, stepping further back to make room for Hauroko who crouched down near them, teary eyed and smiling.  
“How-“  
He couldn’t finish the question, still reeling from the sight.

He knew this was the second time they’d done this. Kriff, the first time they’d worked their powers had been on Him.  
He still wasn’t sure he could process it, so he didn’t try.

Another step back.

Corin looked up at him again, a small smile gracing his features.  
Then his eyes turned to something over his shoulder. They widened, face going slack and tense with anger and fear. His mouth opened.  
“Din-“

He felt the press of cold metal, as it pressed into the thin cloth on the back of his neck, and heard the blaster behind him power up.

“Hello, Mandalorian,” Gideon spat, panting heavily.


	39. Anger

Raga felt her knees go weak, stumbling to support herself against the desk at Din’s words. She was only dimly aware of Omera taking over. The words repeated themselves in her head.  
They’re all here. All here. All here.

Paz and Cara were alive. They were okay.  
Another sob ripped through her chest as tears dripped down her face, screwing up in relief as her head dropped down to her chest.

Leave-it came and crouched down on the ground beside her, looking up at her, hand raising before hesitantly laying on her forearm in a light grip.  
She took deep calming breath, forcing the hysteria down. They were okay, they were alive. She’d see them both again.

She slid down, kneeling on the ground, and unclipped Paz’s helmet from her belt, holding it inner hands.  
She’d see them again, she thought, thumb stroking the twisted metal of the forehead, around one of the torn holes, but at what cost?  
Biting her lip, she raised the helm up, tapping it against her own.

She wouldn’t abandon him. Cara wouldn’t either.  
If he was no longer welcome in the covert, she opened her eyes, then she would follow him out.

She lifted her hand up to the base of her throat, where, under her clothing, she wore the rings Cara had given her to wear. One for her, one for Paz.  
Given them to her, so she knew they’d make it back to her, and now they would.

“-eet us at the landing point.”  
She zoned in just as Omera finished speaking, quickly sorting through the bits and pieces she’d managed to hear of the conversation.

Close, they were so close to seeing all the others again.

She looked over at Leave-it, mind going to the deaths that had already occurred over the last several hours.  
Almost, all the others.

She gave herself a moment to grieve. Just a moment. There’d be time later for true mourning for all their friends and allies.

They didn’t have much to pack. They’d remained cautious, and on alert, the entire time they’d been at the radios. Raga took point as they went to leave, IG behind her, eye on her tracker. No movement, they were free to go.

They wasted as little time as possible. No point risking the lander drawing attention of anything nearby, and the longer it took them to get there, the larger the likelihood.

The damage to the outside corridor slowed them down immediately.  
The floor, which had already only had pieces that were safe, was almost entirely gone, and the lower level was half fallen through to the third level down.

Raga hissed as she took stock of the situation. No way across. Not safely. They’d need to climb down, and then find another way back up.  
Beside her, IG seemed to come to the same conclusion.  
“This will add approximately four minutes and twenty seconds to our journey.”

She hummed, pursing her lips, before getting a move on. Hooking her grappler onto a beam on the roof that still looked fairly stable, she tugged, testing if it would hold, before stepping off her ledge and letting herself dangle over the edge, slowly sliding down to the darker level below.

She checked her tracker again, being thorough, taking the time to turn every which way, before she even considered signalling for anyone else to follow.  
After each landing, she’d check again.  
She’d rather be too cautious, than be sorry,

IG took point once they were all down, Raga unhooking her grappler and catching it before it could hit the ground.  
They didn’t talk. Tension surrounded the the four like thick mud as they wade forth into the unknown.

Every clank the droids steps made against the ground had Raga clenching her teeth together, harder, and harder. She was surprised none had cracked yet.  
She kept an eye on her tracker.

Nothing. Yet

They kept moving forward. The only sounds was the clanking echo of IG’s footsteps, the lighter pitter-patter of the rest, and the different breathing patterns of the group.

The quiet was chilling, and had Raga’s trigger finger twitching nervously against the barrel of her blaster.

She took a deep breath. Each step, was one step closer to her kar’tas’.  
They’d be there. 

Then, simultaneously, her tracker pinged her helm, and IG stopped. She heard the slight sounds of whirring gears as she crept up to stand beside him, lifting her own tracker to scan ahead.

Just on the outreaches, movement. Drifting in and out of range. A lot of it.

She felt herself tremble. He lips lifted, tongue pushing against her canines as she pried her jaw open, releasing the bone breaking tension from her teeth in a low hiss.  
Her finger twitched, hand dropping to rest on top of her holster.

A message ping. IG clearly didn’t want to risk anything audio giving them away.

A warning. They’d have to go right past that movement in order to follow the path to the lander, and reach it within the next ten minutes.  
She heard someone take a short breath behind her, and quickly shot up a fist before they could open their mouth to talk. She pointed her two forefingers, and bent them forward, hearing the soft footsteps as Leave-it followed her silent directions. Raga could only hope Omera knew the basics of troop sign, or at least understood to stay quiet, and follow their lead.

She went onto the balls of her feet, lightening her steps as much as possible, drawing her blaster, and holding it down and in front of her in preparation. She’d prefer to not risk a firefight, but there was no sense in not being prepared in case one broke out.

She grounded herself with the feeling of cool metal in the curve of her throat, and with the weight clipped onto her hip.

Fifty metres out.  
She breathed slowly as they went, feeling her muscles tense and coil, tighter, and tighter, with every tap and clank that the droids steps made.

Forty metres.  
It was like walking towards a wall of movement. A wave, preparing to crash into them and wipe them out.

Thirty.  
Her finger twitched, fingers clenching and adjusting their grip around the barrel of her weapon.

Twenty.  
She could hear the faint signs of sound now. Hissing and snarling, unnatural and frankly just disturbing.

Ten.  
A ping from IG. The door up ahead to their left. It had been blasted, or melted, at some point, nearly fallen off its last remaining hinge, twisted and frayed as it was. They’d have to be careful. A single nudge could send it to the floor.

Snarling, a small shriek.  
The movement was less than five metres out. If that thing fell, it was game over.

She forced herself to breathe deep into her lungs, stepping closer to get a look at the gap she had to work with. It was doable.  
She looked back at Leave-it, gesturing at him.  
She’d go first, scout ahead to see if the stairwell was useable, and safe.  
Then he could help Omera through.

Nodding his understanding, she turned and stepped forward. She had to holster her weapon, needing her hands to grip onto the frame, and balance her weight as she slowly twisted and contorted her way through, desperate to not so much as tap the precarious door. She moved slowly, testing the floor as she went.  
It wouldn’t do to go through all this effort, only to fall through the floor, and bring the bastards down on them anyway.

Slowly, slowly.  
She jolted to a stop when she heard her cauldron scrape something. Hesitated. Nothing. She kept going.

Finally, she was through. Luckily, the stairwell was actually in good condition. That made Raga suspicious, so she took extra care to check her weights nd the stability of the floor, with every step she took. Alternating between looking down at her feet, checking her position, and looking up and around with her blaster aiming.

Nothing. She let out a sigh she hadn’t realised she was holding, feeling a minuscule amount of the tension in her shoulders release.

She slowly crept back down. Then stopped at the sound of a nearby snarl. She turned slowly, pivoting on the spot.  
She stared at the door way in front of her, half a level up from where the group was waiting for her to go back to them.  
There was a crack in the opaque glass. A small hole.

She could lean down, check, see what was happening.

Before she could convince herself otherwise, she did so.

Almost immediately, she had to stifle a sound as she saw the crown of a giant organism, at least five times bigger than any other they’d encountered so far. She felt the blood drain from her face, eyes widening, face going slack.  
Around the thing, was a countless number of eggs, like the ones that had been back at the nest.  
This was another nest. This, thing. It might be what lays them.

Her finger twitched. She recalled how they had shrieked and screamed at fire.   
Her thumb rubbed over the trigger for her flame thrower.

She heard Paz’s screams, as his helmet melted against his face.

She felt heat prick at her eyes as she stared at the monstrous thing. She could do it. She could go in, and burn the entire nest to the ground.  
He jaw clenched, her muscles coiled.

She felt the cool metal against her throat, and forced herself to breathe and step back.

She had an aliit to get back to. An aliit that was alive, and waiting for her. She wouldn’t throw herself into an unnecessary situation. Not when it could jeopardise everything.

Another step, and she forced herself to turn.

Down the stairwell, signal for the others to come. She didn’t try tell them what she saw, aware they’d see later if she chose to show them the recording that was still going on in her helm.  
She especially didn’t tell Leave-it.

They got through safety, Raga grimacing and tensing as the droid clanked its way through.

They all walked past the door. No one else even batted an eye.

Then they were through. The doorway at the top of the stair well was clear, and they were minutes away from the lander.  
Minutes away, from seeing Paz and Cara.


	40. Confrontation

Din grimaced at the pressure jabbing into the nape of his neck, fists clenched at his sides. He should’ve been watching, should have had his rifle, or at least his blaster, on him.

Gideon dug the barrel a bit deeper, forcing his head to move forward with the force fo it. He’d be surprised if there wasn’t a small bruise there in another five minutes.  
If he lived that long.

His teeth grinded together as Gideon talked. He couldn’t focus on the words, too angry at being snuck up on. Too angry the bastard wasn’t dead.

His eyes refocussed, staring at Corin. Corin, who was looking straight back at him, face trying to remain as closed off as possible, but showing hints of horror and stress. His eyes slid over to Paz and Hauroko.  
They were angry, Paz especially. She shifted slightly, hand adjusting on her blaster.

“Ah, ah, ah, put that,” Gideon pushed forward, forcing Din’s head to bow against it, “down.”

Glaring at him, Din could see the confusion in her eyes.  
They didn’t know. He forgot, they weren’t there when Gideon tried to loose the creatures on Corin and the kid.

Slowly, as if every inch was painful, she leaned over, and dropped her blaster to the ground, lip lifting in a snarl as she did so.  
Ever so slowly, she straightened back up, before she was back to sitting leaned against the wall, on top of some of the debris that was around the place.

“Well, now that we have that settled-“  
A red light lit up beside Corin, and Din lost all track of whatever monologue was starting up behind him, fixating on the blinking red as it appeared.

That was the tracker.  
The tracker, pointed toward Din.  
Whatever was coming, was coming from behind him.

His teeth clenched, lips curling, as he tried to think of a way to solve this confrontation, now.  
He wouldn’t listen to reason, that much Din was sure of. He’d said he hated Mandalorians, and he’d wanted the organism to lay one of its, things, inside Corin. His blood curdled at the thought. The entire nature of that life cycle, it was just, just, wrong.

Then something stood out.  
“-ith the kid will certainly make a prize now won’t it.”

Corin tucked the kid’s head, which had started to peek out from beside his leg, back behind him with a hand on the head and a light push. The child went easily, away from Cara's body, and behind the protective mass of its guardian.Corin angled his body to better hide them, facing Gideon straight on, parallel to her still body, eyes cold and glaring.  
“You won’t touch them.”

Behind him, Gideon mocked.  
“Oh, won’t I? What makes you so sure about that?”  
The blaster powered up behind his head.

“Even if it means, trading one life, for another?”

Every muscle in Din’s body tensed, face frozen in a silent snarl as he prepared to fight back against the man behind the trigger. Even if it meant his death.  
Corin’s eyes focussed on his visor, face falling, mouth opening and closing as he tried to find something to say.

Din grit his teeth, preparing to slam his body weight back. If he got his head to the side quick enough, the blaster should get dislodged from his neck, and might only graze him. Hopefully.

A small whine from the kid as a big green ear peeked out, a large eye peering around Corin’s belt.

“Make your choice, Valentis,” the traitor behind him spat.

The beeping red light was fast, they were making too much noise, whatever was coming was going to hear them and come straight at them soon.

A burst of red light, and Din jerked in response.  
Only to whirl around at Gideon’s cry as the blaster fell from his now useless hand, a shot having gone straight through the tendon of his wrist.  
Thinking quickly, Din punched him, sending him flying, head first into the wall next to them.

He panted quietly for a few seconds. He ignored the jitters and trembling as his body began to shake. It was far from his first brush with death today. There’d be time to handle it later.   
Deal, with it, later.

He took a deep breath, just as Paz spoke, voice thick with emotion.  
“Cara?”  
She groaned in response, Corin's blaster clattering to the ground as she dropped it and let her head flop back down.  
“He really needed to stop talking.”


	41. Almost

Paz felt his face grow hot as his vision blurred. His limbs went numb, joints weak, at finally hearing Cara’s voice. She rolled her head on the ground, frowning, until she was looking his way, eyes blinking quickly. He has lifted back up an inch, voice and expression betraying the smile she was trying to hide.  
“What’re you crying for you big baby, you didn’t really think I was gonna leave you behind did you?”  
Her voice slurred a bit, quiet, head thumping back down as her own eyes grew a bit watery.

He gasped out a laugh, moving to kneel beside her.  
“Hypocrite,” he murmured, smiling softly, reaching down to stroke some loose strands of hair out of her face, hand sliding down so his thumb could catch a tear before it feel out of the corner of here eye.  
Her hand came up to lay over his as she pressed her lips to the heel of his palm.

A hand to his shoulder drew him back, and he looked up at the silver helm peering down.

Din paused, hand lifting away, and Paz saw a blinking red light in his other hand.

“We have to get moving,” he murmured, quiet, before moving away after another moment’s hesitation.  
With Cara offering reassurance that yes, she really was fine, no, he didn’t need to triple check that her wound was really gone and would he please just help her up before she smacked him, the group quickly left the area, Din keeping the an eye out for the movement up the corridor from them.  
So far it had stayed away, just far enough they could talk quietly, but close enough to be of concern.

They got moving. Paz felt better, energised by the adrenaline, and soothed by the bacta as it slowly healed the hurt.  
At least now he could walk straight and aim his weapon.

They had at least a ten minute trip, fi things went there way, from their location where they left Gideon’s moaning body, to the hangar the droid had landed the ship at.  
They were almost there. Almost out. Finally, almost free of this kriffing mission.

A hand startled him as it made contact with his shoulder. He whipped around, almost overbalancing.  
Seems the adrenaline was also making him jumpy.

He blinked several times, frowning a bit.  
He still wasn’t used to the lack of depth, and now especially that he wasn’t half blinded by sweat and bloody and had had a chance to rest, he was painfully aware of it.  
At least back then he hadn’t been able to notice when his stumbling was caused by his depth perception over everything else.

He stumbled and his elbow hit the wall.

Cara gripped his arm until he balanced properly.

With a small grunt of impatience, he forced himself to still until any dizziness had passed.

“You alright big guy?”  
He nodded, lips twisting when he realised his face was still set in a scowl. He was really starting to miss his dam helmet.  
Nope, don’t think about that.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good.”  
With her own small frown, not quite believing him, she slowly released his elbow, leaving him to stand on his own. Taking another second, he turned and kept following after the others, Cara at his side.  
He glanced over at her. He just couldn’t quite get his head around the fact she was up. Walking and talking, healthy, completely fine.

He couldn’t quite get the image of her pale face out of his head. The phantom feeling of her still, heavy weight in his arms. The dried blood he could still feel against his skin, and half-dried and sticky in his clothes.

He almost walked into another wall.

Shaking his head, rampaging up a storm of curses that he grit his teeth against, instead letting out a small hiss of frustration, Paz forced himself to watch where he was watching.

Still half-blind.

Then everything went to kriffing hell when he heard a blaster power up behind him, a red light that barely registered, and a sharp pain in his side, where the shot managed to get beside his armour, and into his ribs.  
Sound, maybe a yelp, maybe a scream, either way he was sure it had come from him.

Someone screamed his name, but he couldn’t focus.  
For all the work the bacta and antihistamine had been doing for him, added stress just made all the pain rush back in, and he felt darkness curl around the edges of his eyes as another blast of pain erupted on his thigh.

He finished toppling to the ground, slamming against the wall he’d almost hit mere seconds earlier.

Somewhere, someone screamed.  
Then he lost consciousness.


	42. Hit

“PAZ!”  
Cara’s scream ripped out of her as Paz fell to the ground in a heavy heap.

Behind the figures, Gideon screamed, body contorting, blaster clattering as it hit the ground. His arms rose up to his chest as he collapsed to his knees with another cry.

Corin could only stare, brain struggling to not shut down.  
They’d been so close. So close to just getting to the lander, and getting everyone away safely.  
He didn’t realise he was panting, short panicked breaths, until a soft coo from the kid brought him back to the present.  
Desperate to ground himself, he hugged them tighter to his body as chaos erupted around him. Corin tried to compartmentalise, tried to push everything back, but it just kept coming.  
The cracks spread, until it felt like a dam, pushed to its limit, and ready to explode.

Two red flashed had him flinching, head ducking down to his chest as he curled in on himself.  
A pair of hands caught him, pulling him back up before his knees hit the ground.

He almost couldn’t stand, his knees were that weak.  
He was done, he couldn’t, he just couldn’t keep going. Not if this is what it meant. Not if every turn, every break, every rest, was just going to lead to more pain, more death, more harm.  
Strong arms circled around him, someone shouting in his ears, but it was like he was underwater. He couldn’t focus. Couldn’t draw himself out enough to pay attention to what was being said.  
He was being dragged, feet stumbling, supported by a pair of arms as they pulled him this way and that. Stopping and going, he couldn’t concentrate. Couldn’t bring himself to focus.  
Was it too much to ask? Too much to ask for just enough luck to get everyone left away from here safely?   
Was it being too greedy?

A hand lightly grabbed his chin, pulling him up to stare aimlessly. Was that silver? He squinted a bit, but couldn’t find the energy to properly focus. It was a blur, a mix of dark and light, a smearing of red.  
He felt like he could hear something, like he could understand it if he focussed.

He was just so tired.

Suddenly, sound erupted in his ears when he realised the kid was gone from his arms.

He was pushed back against the wall when he tried to jump up, a gloved hand pushing ups against his mouth. With wide eyes, Corin heaved in breaths against the fabric, hands coming up to push against the metal chest.  
Metal.  
He frowned, breathing in through his nose. His fingers curled against the cool metal, forming loose fists as he stared numbly at them. At his warped reflection, harder to see now with blood and grime layering on the material.  
Another deep breath.

He looked up into the darkened visor, helm tilted as the mandalorian watched him.

Din. His name was Din. He looked up at the visor of Din’s helm, tilted to watch him.

Another deep breath, and he uncurled his fingers.   
Din’s hand pulled away slowly as he looked down, and Corin took air in as slowly as he could through his mouth.

Small claws reached out into his field of vision. Slowly, fighting the tremble in his hands, he reached out and took the kid from Din.

He breathed.

Slowly gathering his bearings, he glanced around. They were tucked behind a small section of caved in wall. Alone.

Frowning, feeling his panic stir again, his head whipped around. He went to lean out to look for the others, but a hand against his chest held him back.   
About to ask why, he was silenced when the ma- when Din, held a finger up to his helm, roughly where his lips would be.

Mouth closing slowly, he settled back down, shifting the kids to hold him more comfortably in his arms.

Din took out the tracker, flicking it on.  
The red light was blinking furiously.

Then Corin heard an unnatural shriek, hiss, and footsteps approach.  
Din scooted closer under the cover, until his back was also to the wall, rifle pulled to his chest, shoulder, amp and thigh pressed against Corin.

Against the low light just outside their small alcove, Corin saw a shadow shift on the wall beside them as something approached the opening.

He tried to breathe as slow as possible, using one hand to draw his shirt up over his mouth in an attempt to further muffle the sound.  
In his arms, the kids ears were pressed tightly against their head, and they were curled in towards Corin’s chest, clutching at the fabric.

He was impressed they were managing to stay so quiet.  
He was also incredibly sad when he thought about why they knew to be silent.

Eventually the shadow shifted again, and away.

The footsteps slowly faded out of earshot. Din pulled the tracker free again, and used it to see how far away the organism had moved.

It was gone.

The tension drained out of Corin as he slumped in relief. He ducked his head against the heat he could feel rising, embarrassed by how useless he’d been after Paz had been shot.

Beside him, Din stood up, careful not to bump his armour or weapon into the metal around them and possibly draw the thing back with noise.  
Another breath, and Corin forced himself up and forward. No time to waste. They had work to do.


	43. A Healing Touch

Din kept a careful ear out for Corin as the two slowly made their way out into the corridor. He was worried about the panic attack he’d just witnessed. It had completely devastated him, rendering him completely useless to do anything except go along when Din had grabbed him.  
So he resolved to keep an eye on him.

Right now though, he needed most of his attention elsewhere. Specifically, he thought as he searched through his pockets and pushes for anymore bacta, Paz needed his attention.  
Cara crawled out of the cracked vent shaft after he knocked on it, turning back around to try drag Paz back out with Hauroko’s help pushing.

He didn’t look good.  
Din wasn’t sure why he’d collapsed the way he had, but if he had to guess, he’d think it was the day’s trauma, and all the beating’s he’d already taken that hadn’t fully healed, coming back with the first shot.

Din glared at the broken corpse of Gideon, savagely wishing he was still alive so he could put a few well deserved shots of his own through his head.

He forced the thought aside as he knelt try help his brother.

He just wasn’t sure it would be enough. Not when they still had so much uncertain terrain left to go. Not when they didn’t know what was waiting up ahead.   
His dead weight alone would require two people to properly carry, let alone the fact that everyone except himself and Cara at the moment, were suffering their own hurts and wounds.

Din gnawed on his lip thoughtfully, frustrated and scared of what this might mean.

He couldn’t leave him behind. He could easily guess Cara wouldn’t either.

He felt hands rest over his own, and realised they’d been shaking as he struggled to tear open a bacta patch.  
Cara slowly pried his fingers loose and took it from him, making quick work of it, before starting to removed pieces of barley mangled armour, to get to the wound underneath.

Din found himself staring at the holes and loose, melted complexion of Paz’s pauldron. He found himself staring at the heavy scarring that twisted, and marred, almost the entirety of the side of his face.  
He pulled off a glove, reaching out with trembling fingers to the crook between Paz’s jaw and throat.  
He was reading life signs, but he needed the physical proof. His breathing was so shallow it was barely perceptible.  
He just needed to feel that there was a heart beat. That they didn’t have to call it a lost cause. That he wouldn’t lose another member from his family. Not when he was so close to having his brother back.

From the corner of his eye, he saw movement as Corin knelt beside him.

Then placed the kid down on the floor in front of him.

His head shot up to stare at Corin’s face, at the twisted expression. He looked back down at the kid. It had been through so much, did they really have the right to ask this of them? When they’d already saved two of their group so far?

The little green being stepped up beside Paz’s almost comically large bulk in comparison to their short stature, and reached out through the ripped fabric on his shoulder with a frown. Their ears twitched, scowl deepening, and a light seemed to shine form under their hands once more.  
Across Paz, Cara watched with astonishment, and wet eyes, as the light seemed to draw close and vanish.  
Except it didn’t go, at least not completely. Instead it seemed to leave a faint trail they could barely see through the numerous rips and holes in his armour and undercut, heading down toward the second wound in his thigh. The light shone again, this time spilling out a bit without a small hand there to block it.  
When it disappeared, the kid stumbled back, caught safely into Corin’s arms once more.

Din waited with baited breath, barley even realising it when he started to chant quietly under his breath.  
“Come on, come on, come on-“  
A continuous statement, a begging plead for this to work.

With a shaking rattle, Paz took a deep breath, chest pushing up, and started to breath normally.

Cara let out a bit off gasp across form him, hand covering her mouth as she watched him breathe evenly.  
Even Din felt himself slump back, settling against his haunches, suddenly unsteady under the sheer relief of knowing Paz would be okay.

Then he got an alert. A ping.  
The others were at the lander. They still had over five minutes of travel time left, but they still had to wait for Paz to wake up.

Thankfully, judging by the movement under his eyelids, they wouldn’t be waiting long.

Din just hoped it was soon enough.


	44. Improvise

The kid was barely awake in Corin’s arms, eyes blinking slowly, barely raising to half way open.  
Smiling down at them, he forced his own worries and fears away. He needed to pull himself together. They were fine, they were all going to be okay. They were almost at the lander, and Paz was breathing normally. They just had to wait for him to wake up.

Beside him, arms folded, leaning against a wall, Hauroko held a tracker loosely in her hand, twirling it to scan in every direction she could, keeping an eye out until their teammate had woken up.

A low groan let them know that that was going to happen soon.

Wincing slightly, against the small twinge every movement seemed to cause his arms, Corin re-arranged the kid to sit back into the sling on his chest, stroking a hand down the back of their head as they gripped tiredly onto the fabric of the kevlar on his chest.

Not far to go. They were almost there. Almost out.

Paz coughed and jerked to alertness after another low groan, struggling to sit up, hadn’t going to his head as Cara steadied him.  
Corin felt a little bit of unknown tension leak from his shoulders.

They were okay. They were going to be okay.

After some quiet words, Din stood up, Cara following suit, and both offering a hand down to help up the apparently dizzy giant.

Once up, Cara gripped tight onto his arm when he stumbled back and forth a couple steps, this time both hands going up to cover his face. The healing must have given him a headache?

Whatever it was, when he turned around, he merely set his face into a grimace, took the blaster Din offered to him, and managed to stay on his two feet when Cara released him, walking forward with some careful steps, before regaining his confidence and balance, and picking up speed.

Din glanced down at the tracker in Hauroko’s hand as she once again twirled it around, scanning all directions.

“Alright,” he started, voice low through his modulator, “We’re not far from the lander. The others are there now. If we’re lucky, and the route’s undamaged, it should be just through that door,” he pointed just ahead of the group, to the right, “and up a few flights of stairs, down a few corridors.”

“If we’re not lucky?” Hauroko asked, cocking an eyebrow at him as she finally glanced up from the tracker, short red hair so dark and grimy it look like a filthy brown.

“Then we’ll have to improvise,” Din sighed.

This time, Cara took lead, still freshly healed, Paz joining her, and giving the other three a chance to rest; at least as well as they could given the circumstances.

Din put a careful hand to Corin’s back, gently pushing him in front of him, keeping him and the kid away from being the tail.  
Corin resolutely ignored the tingles he felt when the weight disappeared.

He refused to even acknowledge what that meant.

And naturally, given the status of their luck for the day, when they opened the door, it was to see that the staircases leading above were completely mangled.  
Corin sighed, head dropping down to hang in frustrated annoyance.   
Just once, just once could they not have had a single stroke of good luck? Just a smidge? Even for the kid, or for Paz and Cara, and Hauroko who had all clearly suffered in their separation from the group. Couldn’t there have been even a single second of good luck for them?

So they had to improvise, and Cara cautiously started going down the flight of stairs to the floor below. Hopefully they’d find a second staircase further up that wouldn’t be damaged, or at least undamaged enough to climb through.

Corin leaned against a wall, desperate to relieve his legs of some weight for even a second or two.  
His head lolled against the cool metal as he watched Cara creep down the steps, weapon raised and primed.

A hand on his shoulder, and he rolled it to gaze at the visor tilted in concern.  
With a tired smile, or at least an attempt at one, Corin sighed when he let his head drop back forward.  
He ignored the small part of him that took comfort in the weighted heat that remained on his shoulder for a few moments more, gripping it, before finally falling back.

Below, he heard a soft whistle, and Paz, crouched at the edge of the stairs, keeping an eye on Cara’s progress, beckoned everyone forward as he began his own careful journey down the steps.  
It seemed, without saying a word, everyone had agreed to go one at a time, because Hauroko remained still until Paz was well out of sight.

With another sigh, and a low groan as he pushed himself up, Corin approached the edge, and took watch over her progress, ready to follow once she reached the bottom.

He was definitely not pouting when she reached it, and it was his turn to get moving.

He grimaced when the first few steps down almost made him stumble, muscles finally beginning their protest of all the work and running and standing they’d had to do in the last several hours.  
He shoved the complaints away into a small box that he put under the floorboards of a distant corner in his mind, right in front of the dam that was everything else he was pushing aside to deal with later.

He really couldn’t afford to start thinking about anything, no matter how small, and risk getting fixated, and spiralling again.  
It needed to wait until they were off the kriffing planet.

He finally stumbled down the last steps, and turned to blink wearily up as Din followed, boots silent against the metal.

He must be really tired by this point, right? That armour would have to be heavy.

Corin guessed he was used to it.

Then he realised he was staring at him when Din came up to stand in front of him, joining the group, and Corin saw his warped reflection in the blackened visor.

With a small head shake, he turned away as he felt himself flush when Din tilted his head at him.  
Not the time.

He didn’t realise he was swaying until he felt a hand come up to steady him, gripping firmly onto his elbow and holding there.  
Another tired smile at the silver helm.

Then Cara opened the door a fraction, and Corin felt his blood freeze.


	45. Collapse

Paz glared out, tense, frustrated, and inwardly cursing the Sith’s luck they’d suffered since the cursed mission had started.  
Outside the crack his cy’are had opened the door to, they could see even more of the kriffing eggs the bastards had had back at the nest.

They must have walked right into another one.

Lips curling, fingers flexing against the blaster in his hands, Paz breathed harshly through his nose in agitation.

Beside him, Cara was staring out with a small frown, lips pursed as her eyes flicked this way and that, searching for any sign of the bastard things.

She pulled the tracker out, shielding the light with her hand as she also turned away from the opening, blocking the light as much as possible.

No sign of any movement. No blip whatsoever.  
So, likely just the eggs then.

He grimaced. He didn’t even have his helmet anymore. This should be fun.

Then from beside him, there was a flash of red. Stiffening, his head whipped down to stare at it. Faster blinking, numerous signs of movement. Then nothing.  
Until there was another quick blast of bleeps, and movement.

Staring even more intensely out beyond the opening, Paz squinted against the lack of light, snarling in frustration.  
Until another flash of red from the corner of his eye, and his eyes widened at the sudden shifting and movement that erupted from the twisted, covered walls as the creatures moved, jumped and ran to different location.  
His eyes tracked the ripple of movement, and he felt the blood drain from his face when he saw what stood at the centre of it.

An organism, at least three times larger than the rest, the crest atop its head seemed to be bigger than Paz by itself.

He took a step back, knees weak, only caught from stumbling and possibly drawing attention to them, by a solid weight against his spine as Hauoko pushed against him, keeping him balanced.

His elbow clipped against Corin. When he turned to look at him, check on the kid, he saw the same horror reflected back at him.

How were they supposed to get through this.

Then they heard a snarl above them, and the smack as something dropped onto the platform at the top of the cornered stair case they’d just come down.

They were trapped, stairs leading further down blocked by debris and appeared too unstable to safely climb.

At another stomp above them, Paz realised they might not have a choice. They couldn’t go through that mess in front of them, they couldn’t face the thing above them without drawing even more of them with the noise.  
Their only option might be to go further down, and try get around.

Then Paz felt the ground tilt beneath his feet as something groaned and creaked, loudly.

The tracker burst with light again, and this time he heard the loud screeches and hisses as the metal world around them began to warp and bend.

The compound was unstable. They’d seen it back at the other nest. The holes and ripped metal and whatever it was the things created to build their walls, chipped away at the stability of the building.

It was only ever a matter of time before something gave. He just really wished it had happened at a better time as another groan saw the floor partially collapse under their feet, sending all of them into the wall, and Paz, Cara and Hauroko straight through the door, and onto the swaying floor.  
His head cracked against the hard shell of one of the eggs, the rest of his body spinning and slamming into another.

He heard someone, he wasn’t sure if it was Cara or Hauroko, cry out as they reached their own point of impact.

Around them, their were snaps and cracks, groans and creaks, squeals and shrieks, as the room began to cave in, the floor bending and tilting to the level below.

Scrabbling for balance, Paz felt the particular floor grate beneath him give a violent shake, and he realised it was about to drop.  
He refused to grab onto any of the blasted eggs, refused to make the hugger’s jobs nay easier if they decided to jump out.

He was sent to all fours, his knees slamming painfully into the metal. Another shudder, something buckling. It was going to go.  
He made a desperate lunge for the next grate, fingers scratching and scrambling for anything to grab onto, but it was useless.  
He could feel himself start to slide back, a piece of nest falling from the ceiling and crashing onto his shoulder painfully, the grate beneath him suddenly dropping under his legs, leaving him weightless.

Then he slammed into a hanging stop when he finally grabbed onto a cord that brushed through his fingers, body jerking painfully as his chest smacked into the edge of the grate in front of him.

He grimaced against the pain of gripping the thin cord between his fingers, his other hand finally finding an aching purchase between the bars of the grate in front.

He looked up to see Din, back against the floor, foot on either side of the door, gripping the cord of his grappler with all his might, straining to not let go, in case it accidentally slid away too quick, and snapped, dropping Paz into the unknown below.

Grunting and groaning, Paz strained with all his might to pull himself up. Slowly, he got himself to a point he managed to slam his arm gripping the grate forward, elbow knocking painfully into the barely raised edge of the panel, just barely managing to find a new grip between bars in the grate. He repeated the motion, heaving up, ignoring the strain in his fingers, before quickly slamming his hand up toward another section of cord.

He hung there a moment, breathless.

Ahead, Din grunted at the different weights being placed on the grappler. Paz could see his knee buckling slightly against the pressure.

Then a hand reached out for him.  
He looked up at Cara as she reached out to him, her own face in a scowl against the scrapes, bruises and hurt the fall had done her.

Preparing himself, he quickly lunged out, barley reaching her wrist to fully grab before he felt his other arm drop, the pressure on his fingers proving too much.

A strong grip on his wrist, a second hand swinging down to catch him at his elbow, and Cara rolled herself over, using all the strength in her body to wrap him around her, where she was trapping herself between a fallen section of debris and a cracked egg.

No face hugger. Hopefully the bastard was dead.

He noticed the tail pinned between the debris, and what remained of the floor when a mild hissing noise drew his attention as the metal bubbled against the acid.

Thank Maker.


	46. Disaster

Slumping against the…. Wall? Floor? He had no idea what to now call it in its new orientation.  
Slumping against the door frame, Din let out a harsh sigh, reaching up to give his biceps and shoulders a quick rub, tilting his head side to side in an effort to release a small amount fo the strain holding Paz had caused.

He twisted, turning to see how Corin and the kid had faired in the collapse.

Blue eyes met him, bright against the new coat of grime against Corin’s face. The kid was still completely out of it in their sling. It looked like Corin had spun, landing heavily on his back to save the kid any possible harm.

Din remembered the organisms that had all been outside the small space, and in a quick panic, whipped around and peered anxiously outside the opening

Nothing, it looked like most of them had run off, fled or fallen, as the structure had collapsed in on and beneath them.

He sagged back against the frame with a bone-deep sigh. How many more near-death experiences was it going to take for them to reach that kriffing lander?

A touch to his back, a gentle reassurance.  
He took a deep breath, then, looking for a way safely through to the other room where Cara and Paz were now crawling, pushing against the eggs and debris, in the general direction they needed to head, out of his way.

Looking behind him, he guessed that the stairs were still intact enough to hold his weight.

As he shot his grappler toward them, he found himself hoping he was right when they creaked ominously when he gave the cord a testing tug.  
Another sigh. Oh well, here’s to hope.

He swung down, awkwardly twisting through the frame, before lowering himself down and carefully trying to manoeuvre himself to a safe place to tuck in and crouch.

Once his footing was secure, he glanced up the steep angle, at Corin’s face peering down at him.

With a final tug at the cord, he flicked it over toward Corin to grab.

He pursed his lips against a smile as he watched him awkwardly rolled himself around trying to keep a grip on the cord, before he slowly started to slide down.

Then Din realised how bad of an idea this had been, with his arms still outstretched, cord connected to the grappler.

Corin’s foot hit his hand, and he resisted the urge to duck his head away. Mostly because he could almost feel the shit-eating grins the two bastards beside him were giving him. It also didn’t help he could see Paz giving him an exaggerated thumbs up out of the corner of his eye.  
He was extremely glad for the helmet hiding the rising heat in his face.

He guessed their amusement at his current predicament was better than fear and panic as they ran away from numerous organisms. Even if it didn’t necessarily feel like it at this exact moment when Corin’s hips were shimmying down his chest, thighs basically resting either side of his own.

He ignored the weight and friction against himself. Just the adrenaline. Just, the adrenaline. 

His free hand went up to Corin’s waist as he awkwardly shifted and rolled against Din, trying to keep the child from being squished between them.

He bit his lip in frustration, and told himself he was glad when the heat against his front disappeared, as Corin turned, and began to make his own way clambering over broken eggs and debris, following after the three crawling ahead of him.

Din flicked and tugged at the cord, until it finally yanked free, falling down and winding back into his vambrace. He gave himself a second to breathe. Just the adrenaline.

When he started to follow the others, a blink of red caught his attention, and he felt his blood run cold.  
Something shifted, ahead and further down the steep slope that was the half collapsed floor beneath them.

He watched in muted horror, seeing the others freeze, fixated as well, at the sight of the giant crested head of the organism as it slowly shook and strained against the debris on top of it.  
“Move!” He shouted, seeing it lunge toward them, even stuck as it was.

The time for subtlety was far over, they needed to be gone, now.

Everyone scrambled desperately, crawling, falling and shoving their way forward and over, even as the giant creature pushed and yanked its way, inch by inch, free of the trappings it was stuck in.

There, they reached their next problem, when they drew up to the door they had to go through next, closed, and up a smooth, steep slope above them.

Din heard a sharp snap as the jaws of the giant creature cracked out and shut violently.

With a snarl at the mild delay, Din shot his grappler up at the closed door, and yanked desperately at it, trying to rip it open.

A large hand gripped his forearm, a knife coming up to slice the cord and free him.  
Din definitely did not pout.

He was pushed back a step as Paz curled the cord through his hands, and yanked down with all his might, ripping the door straight off its hinges, where it hung down. And finally twisted and fell off toward them.  
With a yelp, he stumbled back, foot slipping, and sending him tumbling down the loose metal beneath him as the door narrowly avoided slamming straight into his head.  
Even beskar wouldn’t have protected him from that.

As he slipped, spinning, and ended up facing the snapping jaws of the creature below him, he realised it also wouldn’t protect him from that.

A strong grip grabbed onto his ankle, yanking him up, just as the organism shifted, lunging forward, and almost snapping it’s inner jaw straight through his visor.

With a strangled gasp, Din gripped onto Paz’s hand as it changed its grip, clutching at the nape of his neck, and pulling him upright.

“I did not think this through.”  
Din glared at Paz as he realised what he was talking about, looking up at the gaping opening they needed to reach, and gritting his teeth at the lack of cord in his grappler.

“You think.”

“You morons realise Paz still has his grappler right?”  
They stared, visor meeting uncovered eyes as the two brothers stared at each other for a moment.  
Din still wasn’t used to that. Still not used to seeing the eyes of a brother he hadn’t seen the bare face of since they were children.

“Right-“  
“-Yep.”  
Clearing their throats, Paz aimed his own grappler, shooting it up into the opening. Before he could cut it off, Cara groaned, yanking his arm down.  
“No you idiot, we can just climb up, and you can pull yourself up after. Let’s not break another tool we might need again.”

With that, she gripped the cord, swung herself up, and climbed toward the dark above and away from the growling, snarling thing below them that was slowly but surely freeing itself from the rubble.


	47. A Short Climb

Ignoring the flush he hoped the grime on his face would hide, Paz grimaced and grunted through everyone vaulting up and using the cord of his grappler to climb their way up the slope.  
He felt himself get antsy when Corin slipped, struggling to hold himself and the kid up.

Paz remembered that out of all of them, he and Hauroko seemed to be the only two that hadn’t had any healing, Din previously informing him of his own, and Corin hadn’t taken and antihistamines either.  
“C’mon Corin,” he found himself muttering, when he slipped again, almost within arms reach of the door, but his feet had lost all their traction on the sheer metal beneath.

A bare arm reached down, the ringed bars around the bicep flexing in time with the muscle as Cara offered her hand.  
Corin took it, both groaning with the effort of getting through the doors safely.

Behind… beneath?  
Behind Paz the giant organism shrieked, screeching a deafening sound.

As Hauroko swung herself up onto the cord, he found himself looking around, paranoid of all the missing, smaller creatures. With the ruckus the bastard behind them was amking, it was only a matter of time before they returned.

Finally it was Din’s turn to climb up. With a small grunt of exertion, he started the small trip, pulling himself up slowly but surely, and the distance to the door above…. In front? Above…. Closed rapidly.

Cara reached down to help him up, just as she’d done with the two before him.

Bracing himself, Paz began to pull at the cord, hoisting himself up toward the door.  
Just in time, as he heard a crack and groan, and the debris he’d been balanced on shifted and slid to the side.  
Further freeing the giant creature as it swiped ta him with its claws, barely a couple meters away now. It looked like only it’s last legs and tails were left to pull free.

Turning back around, he snarled viciously as he put more effort into the climb, going as fast as he could. Finally, stepping through the doorway, he pulled up once more, tilting himself forward until he could balance, a leg on either side of the frame, and unhook his grappler, winching it back into place.

“Time to move,” Cara said, straight to the point. Everyone was panting, at differing levels of tired, and in Hauroko’s and Corin’s case, utter exhaustion.

With a weary nod, Paz grimaced, swinging his weight and leg over to join everyone on the right side of the frame, stumbling against the odd angle of the room, and throwing a hand against the wall to properly balance.  
Now for the next trial.

He groaned, dropping his head, when he took in the state of the stairs.

“And here I thought,” Corin panted form his place still half laid out in the corner, “This next bit would be hard.”

Even from the distance of three people between them, Paz could clearly see the way the muscles in his arm were shaking as he forced himself to his feet, preparing to climb.

Before he could get anywhere, Din took a leap, from the wall, and up toward some stairs hanging just a short distance above their heads. Swinging from one to the next, he repeated the motion, until he was at the base of the stairs, performing a difficult looking crunch, as he swung his legs up over his head, until his knees were on top of the stairs.

He sat there a moment, catching his breath, before he stretched out an arm for Corin to reach out to.

Taking a small push off from the wall behind him, Corin just barely managed to grip onto his forearm, swinging against the rougher metal, before Din was able to start hoisting him up, rolling, and using all his bodyweight, until he’d managed to get his other hand up on the stair, and Corin could help pull himself up.

Paz grinned a bit when Din kept his head tilted up while Corin slowly climbed over him.

When the visor looked back down, he leered up at him, using his brother’s embarrassment to distract form the shrieking and groaning he could still hear echo in through the doorway behind him.

Hauroko pounced up next, using her smaller weight to gain more distance, and suing the momentum to swing herself up onto the stairs beside Din.  
Cara waved him off, and he made his own way with the other two, slowly crawling and climbing up the stairs as Cara readied herself for a jump.

Paz was still so happy to see her up and moving, performing her usual strength revealing stunts, with such ease.  
She made her way up onto the stairs, and turned back to smirk at him.  
“C’mon big guy, don’t fall behind now.”

He smirked back, when all he had to do, was stretch up from his tiptoes, reach above him, and grab onto the base of the lowered platform above him. Shaking her head at his antics, Cara started to slowly climb up the steps as he slowly put weight on the grip he had, testing if the metal would hold his weight.  
A slight groan, a small creak, the tiniest shift, then nothing.  
It’d do.

Then he heard a loud, unnatural scream from behind him, and something shift and crash.

Time for fun was over. He grunted, hoisting up, and starting to properly climb as he heard the screeching of claws against metal, ripping into the weakened material, and left it behind him.

Time to go, time to go.

He snarled at the strain, forcing his body to move, keep going. There’d be time to rest later.  
He gripped on, and rolled himself through the twisted metal bars of the rails beside the stairs, and judging from the kick to his shoulder, almost straight onto Cara. That would have been unfortunate.

Just one more set of stairs. One more set of stairs, they’d be at the door to get through, and just a short run for the lander. They were so close, Paz could almost taste it.

Then the sharp end of a tail pierced straight through the stairs right below his feet as the giant organism apparently made its way into the small space below them.

“Move!”


	48. Almost There!

His arms were quaking, and he head to push through his limits just to keep them moving. If he stopped, Corin wasn’t sure he’d be able o get moving again. He grit his teeth, head low, and forced his limbs to move.  
The others overtook him easily, helping pull him up the corner, up the next set of stairs, and on the platform. Just one more set of stairs, and they’d be at the door.

Below them, bad luck raged closer, as claws shrieked against metal, and a barbed, a armoured tail slammed through stairs, trying to get at them with its razor point.

A hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him backwards against a warm body, head smacking against cold metal on his chest as Din yanked him away mere seconds before the second jaw of the creature snapped between the bars of the rail, right into the space Corin’s head had been moments earlier.  
He had no time to think about it, if he even had the strength to do so, when Din pulled him along, arm looping beneath his and around his chest, dragging him along, stumbling beside him.

His knee wobbled, and almost gave out, almost sending him straight into the waiting jaws of the monster below as it screeched at them, claws slammed against the stairs the others were desperately scrambling up.

A second hand came down, gripping harshly on the back of his neck, bunching the fabric there, and pulling him up. He choked for a second, losing oxygen, until the grip was released, and Din pulled him up, ducking under an arm to keep Corins’ over his shoulders.  
Corin glanced down at the kid, so incredibly grateful it was passed out during this chase. A stroke of good luck, finally.

Ahead, he could hear banging and slamming as Paz rammed his shoulder, over and over, into the door, trying to open it.  
They crossed another corner, and he realised why, seeing how it was warped and bent against the wrecked frame, barely scraping an inch with every slam of Paz’s bodyweight that went into it.

Below them, the creature screeched, and slammed into the platform, sending everyone sprawling as it lifted and dented upwards against the force.

“Come on!” Paz yelled, slamming against the door again, knocking it open another inch. Another. And another.  
He’d be so bruised on that shoulder if he kept this up.

A screech below, and claws hooked onto the corner of the platform, near Corin’s foot. Kicking away in a mad scramble, Corin panted as he watched the creature try find purchase to pull itself up.

If they lived that long.

A knife embedded itself into the creatures joint, and its claws dropped from view, Hauroko’s weeping going with it.  
Paz barged into the door one final time, and it slammed open, sending him tumbling into the corridor outside.

Corin was pulled up by his elbow as Din grabbed him, dragging him forward and after the others as they ran through the door.

“Up ahead, five doors down, sixth on the right,” he yelled out, barely getting an affirmative back from Paz as he and Cara sprinted forward.  
Almost there, they were so close.

Corin stumbled behind, barely keeping up with Din, but could feel the hope giving him new strength.

Almost out, good luck was right around the corner.

One, two, three. Halfway there. Two doors left, and they’d be there.

Four. So close. Please, Corin begged, pleading with the universe, please let it be this easy.  
Five. Only one more left. They just had to reach one more door. They were so close!

The door was unlocked, Paz opening it easily, blaster raising in case of creatures through the opening. He ducked through quickly, Cara following, Hauroko a few steps behind.

Panting, Corin kept going, doing his best to ignore the weakness in his knees as Din dragged him through the dark entrance, through a small shadow, and right into light as they spilled out onto a platform.  
An empty platform.

Corin sank to his knees, clutching the kid to his chest as he distantly heard Paz cursing up a storm.  
He only had ears for Din.  
“They’re- They’re not here.”


	49. Escape

Din was in a panic. How long had it been, surely they hadn’t taken so long they’d have left? Surely they hadn’t been left behind to fend for themselves?

There was a pounding, and the shriek of metal behind him as the giant organism slammed against the wall around the door, bending and breaking the metal as it slowly forced the opening wider, large enough for it to step through.

It was huge. The crest of its head alone was bigger than Paz, including the head, it looked like it could even be bigger than two of him.  
Standing up on its hind legs, it towered over them.

Din darted forward, grabbing onto Corin, and half dragging him away as the thing stepped forward.

The platform beneath their feet seemed to give way slightly, buckling against the weight of the creature in front of them.

They were dead.  
There was no way around it, without the lander, without any rescue in sight, this thing was going to kill them. They didn’t have the firepower to take it out, not without casualties.

Even if they did, the rest would be picked off by the smaller creatures throughout the compound.  
He felt a large hand on his shoulder as he stumbled into someones space, Corin still half on his knees in his grip.  
Din wasn’t sure, even if they’d had the firepower, if any of them had enough fight to give to take this thing down.

It took another step forward, closing the distance between them immensely.

He swung his rifle off his shoulder, into his hands, and raised it up, prepared to fire.  
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw blasters raise and power up. Even exhausted, on the ground, Corin haphazardly aimed his own with a shaking hand.  
Even if this was the end of their mission, they weren’t going down without a fight.

Din only wished the kid had stayed behind, safe, with the others. A kid didn’t deserve to die like this.

A bright light erupted behind them, painting the scene red, right as the creature’s head lifted up, staring over them.

Then a giant red blast slammed into it’s chest, forcing it back a step, as they heard a yell behind them.  
“Paz! Cara!”  
He whipped around, seeing he wasn’t the only one. Raga was leaning out of the open door of the lander as it roughly moved closer toward the platform, machine gun hoisted to her hip by both hands.  
“Come On!” She screamed at them, spurring them into action.

The carrier was within jumping distance, so Hauroko took a running leap, passing easily into the space beside Raga, before disappearing further into the ship.

Paz and Cara shared a look, glanced back at Din and Corin, but at his nod, both ran toward their cy’are, leaping into the ship beside her. Both stayed near the sides of the door behind her, in case either Din or Corin needed help.

Corin stumbled in his arms as he lifted him up to his feet.  
“Come on, come one, we’re almost out. Just need to do this, just one more jump Corin you hear? One more jump.”

Raga opened fire at something behind them just as Din felt the platform give another inch, sending him solidly onto one knee as he tumbled down, over balanced.  
Beside him Corin hit the ground, turning onto his side in an effort to protect the kid.

With a savage growl, a snarl, he grabbed the back of Corin’s kevlar and pulled.  
“Come on Corin, come on!”

The edge was there, the lander right in front of them.  
Corin pulled back against him though when he went to push him forward. Turning toward him, he saw that he’d pull the kid free of his sling, and was holding him out for Paz’s outreached hand to take.  
Looking after the kid first.

Once the still unconscious kid was inside, Cara took Paz’s place, hand outstretched toward them.  
Beside her, Raga was still firing a steady stream into a screeching creature.

“Move it,” she screamed at them, and Din realised her ammo was probably get low.

Turning his back on Corin, trusting Cara to catch him, he aimed his rifle, and took shots at the thing’s joints, aiming to bring it to its knees and slow it down.

It stumbled down, as simultaneously, a shot from him slammed into an open joint, and one of Raga’s shots went wide and slammed into the lower part of its other leg.

It would have to be enough.

“Din!”  
At Paz’s roar, he turned, taking the few running steps he could, and leaping with all his might into the outstretched arms that grabbed at him, pulling him to safety.

Cara slammed the door’s mechanism, Raga continuing to fire even as the lander lifted away, and the door shut against the organisms’ screams.

Compared to the sound they’d been caught in for the last several minutes, the silence in the lander, when the door hissed shut and locked, seemed deafening.

He felt himself stumble back against the surface behind him, as the event’s of the last several hours rushed back in.  
He laid down the wall, and landed right next to Corin, pressed against each other from their shoulders to their ankles as Paz approached, handing the kid back to a still shaking Corin, who immediately pulled them close and cuddled them to his chest.

Down toward the front of the lander, he could see Hauroko and Leave-it huddled together in a tangled mess on the floor.  
The droid and Omera must be flying the ship.

Dinf elt his eyes drift over to the three still beside the door, as Raga cupped her hand onto Paz’s cheek, and brought him down to a soft kov’nyn.

He allowed his eyes to slip closed, head tilting back to rest against the cool metal on his back, as he felt a warm weight fall onto his shoulder.

They’d made it out.  
They’d made it.


End file.
